Digitized  by  tine  Internet  Arciiive 

in  2007  witii  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


littp://www.arcliive.org/details/artofstorywritinOOfowlricli 


THE  ART  OF 
STORY  WRITING 


Books  by  Nathaniel  c.  Fowler.  Jr. 

The  Art  of  Story  Writing 
The  Handbook  of  Journalism 
Each  12mo.  cloth  $1.25  net 

How  to  Obtain  Citizenship 
Getting  a  Start 
Beginning  Right 
Grasping  Opportunity 
Each,  12nio,  cloth 

The  Art  of  Letter  Writing 
1,000  Things  Worth  Knowing 
Stories    and   Toasts   for    After 

Dinner 
The  Art  of  Speech  Making 
Each,  12mo,  cloth 

George  Sully    &  Company 

NEW  YORK 


THE  ART  OF 

STORY  WRITING 

Facts  and  Information  About  Liter- 
ary Work  of  Practical  Value  to  Both 
Amateur  and  Professional  Writers 

BY 
NATHANIEL  C.  FOWLER,  Jb. 

Aathor  of  "SUrtiDff  in  Life.'*  *  How  to  ObUin  Citii«n«hip,*' 
•*Th«  Art  of  UtUr  Wrilin*.'  -How  to  S«Te  Money."  «te. 


NEW  YORK 

GEORGE  SULLY  AND  COMPANY 


Cop3Tn?rht,  191S,  by 
SULLY  AND  KLEINTEICH 


All  rights  reserved 


PRINTED  IN  U.  S.  A. 


rNi45 


A  WORD  AT  THE  START 

The  writing  of  stories  of  every  class  and  of  any 
length,  and  of  every  kind  of  literature,  whether  or 
not  published  in  book  form,  is  a  distinct  art  or  pro- 
fession, may  be  considered  as  a  trade,  and  cannot  be 
accurately  weighed  or  measured  unless  subject  to 
both  ethical  and   commercial  consideration. 

To  refuse  to  discuss  the  making  of  literature 
commercially,  or  from  a  business  point  of  view, 
would  be  unfair  and  unprofitable. 

It  is  obvious  that  the  majority  of  writers  con- 
sider their  pens  as  remunerative  tools,  and  that 
they  produce  literature,  or  what  resembles  it,  not 
wholly  for  fame  and  for  the  good  that  they  may 
do,  but  because  of  the  money  received,  or  expected, 
from  their  work. 

The  making  and  marketing  of  literature,  then, 
are  not  removed  wholly  from  the  rules  or  laws 
which  govern  the  manufacture  of  a  commodity. 
If  literature  was  not  a  commodity,  in  some  sense. 


A  WORD  AT  THE  START 

at  least,  it  would  not  have  a  market  and  be  paid 
for.  Any  analysis  of  it,  therefore,  must  take  into 
account  its  commercial  or  trade  value. 

In  this  country,  many  thousands  of  men  and 
women  depend  entirely  upon  their  pens  for  a  live- 
lihood, and  ten  times  as  many  thousand  write 
whoUy  for  fame  or  for  the  good  they  can  do,  with 
or  without  expectation  of  receiving  a  financial  re- 
turn. 

Several  books  have  been  written  claiming  to  con- 
tain rules,  regulations,  or  instructions  for  the  writ- 
ing of  every  class  of  literature.  While  none  of 
these  books  are  valueless,  I  think  that  most  of  them 
are  altogether  too  technical,  and  that  some  of  them 
pretend  to  do  the  impossible. 

One  may  receive  specific  instructions  in  stenog- 
raphy, typewriting,  book-keeping,  and  other  con- 
crete work,  depending  upon  experience  for  pro- 
ficiency ;  but  it  is  difficult,  if  not  impossible,  to  tell 
any  one  how  to  write  so  that  he  may  become  pro- 
ficient in  this  art  largely  from  the  instructions 
given. 

I  do  not  believe  that  it  is  possible  for  any  one, 
not  even  an  experienced  writer,  to  impart  an  actual 


A  WORD  AT  THE  START 

working  knowledge  of  composition,  which  will  be 
of  more  than  preliminary  benefit  to  the  reader. 

Instead  of  loading  this  book  with  instructions, 
and  attempting  to  tell  the  would-be  writer  what 
to  do  and  what  not  to  do,  or  to  build  a  frame  which 
he  may  use  as  a  model,  I  have  devoted  many  of  my 
pages  to  the  giving  of  information  which  I  hope 
will  not  fail  to  assist  the  reader. 

I  am  entirely  unbiased,  and  have  no  ax  to  grind 
at  the  reader's  expense.  I  am  telling  him  the 
truth  as  I  see  it,  and  am  using  the  eyes  of  others 
as  well  as  my  own. 

Personal  opinion,  even  if  given  by  an  expert, 
has  little  value,  unless  it  is  based  upon  the  com- 
posite. 

What  I  have  said,  then,  is  of  the  little  I  know, 
combined  with  the  much  which  I  think  I  know 
about  what  others  know. 

I  have  attempted  neither  to  skim  the  surface, 
nor  to  bore  into  the  depths.  Rather,  I  have 
chosen  to  present  typographical  pictures  of  liter- 
ary fact,  starting  at  the  beginning  and  ending  at 
the  result. 


CONTENTS 

PAOC 
A   WOHD    AT   THE    StART 

CHAPTER  I 
Entering  a  Literary  Career 1 

CHAPTER  II 
The  Writing  of  Notel» 6 

CHAPTER  III 
The  Writing  of  a  Short  Story 20 

CHAPTER   IV 
The  Story  of  Adventure 28 

CHAPTER  V 

The  Mystery  Story 81 

CHAPTER  VI 
The  Detective  Story SS 

CHAPTER  VII 
Stories  for  Children 86 

CHAPTER  VIII 
Humorous  Writing 89 

CHAPTER  IX 
Special  Stories  or  Articles *5 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  X  PAGE 

The  Writing  op  Poetry  . 47 

CHAPTER  XI 
Play  Writing 58 

CHAPTER  XII 
Motion-Picture  Plays 84 

CHAPTER  XIII 
The  Name  of  a  Book  or  Story  .....     87 

CHAPTER  XIV 
Literary  Schools 91 

CHAPTER  XV 
Literary  Agencies  or  Bureaus  ......     94 

CHAPTER  XVI 
The  Preparation  of  a  Manuscript       ...     98 

CHAPTER  XVII 
Manuscript  Paper 108 

CHAPTER  XVIII 
Copying  Manuscripts 110 

CHAPTER  XIX 
The  Number  of  Words  in  a  Manuscript  .      .113 

CHAPTER  XX 
Revising  Manuscripts 115 

CHAPTER  XXI 
How  TO  Send  a  Manuscript 120 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  XXII  PAGE 

Rejected  Manuscripts 126 

CHAPTER  XXIII 
The  Size  of  a  Book 129 

CHAPTER  XXIV 
The  Number  of  Words  in  a  Book   .  .183 

CHAPTER  XXV 
How  A  Manuscript  »  Rickited  and  Handled 
BY  A  Book  Publisher 136 

CHAPTER  XXVI 
Terms  for  the  Publication  of  Booki  .  .143 

CHAPTER  XXVII 
Contracts  with  Book  Publishers   .  .119 

CHAPTER  XXVIII 
Disreputable  Publishers 168 

CHAPTER  XXIX 
Copyrighting 172 

CHAPTER  XXX 
Quoting  from  Copyrighted  Matter  .      .177 

CHAPTER  XXXI 
Thx  Danger  of  Libel 179 

CHAPTER  XXXII 
The  Price  of  a  Book 182 

CHAPTER  XXXIII 
Illustrations 185 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  XXXIV  page 

The  Reading  of  Proofs 193 

CHAPTER  XXXV 
Books   Published   at   the   Author's   Expense  204 

CHAPTER  XXXVI 
Complimentary  Copies   of   Books    ....   206 

CHAPTER  XXXVII 
Books  in  Libraries 208 

CHAPTER  XXXVIII 
The  Advance  Publication,  or  Republication, 
op  Books,  Stories,  and  Articles  ....   210 

CHAPTER  XXXIX 
The   Linotype,   Monotype,   and    Typesetting 
Machines 213 

CHAPTER  XL 
Electrotyping  and  Stereotyping  .      .      .      .215 

CHAPTER  XLI 
The  Value  of  Experience  and  Timeliness   .   217 

CHAPTER  XLII 
Syndicate  Writers 225 

CHAPTER  XLIII 
Paper-Covered  Books 232 

CHAPTER  XLIV 
The  Selling  Value  of  Reputation     .      .      .   236 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  XLV  pact 

Thb  Income  of  Book  Whcers 240 

CHAPTER  XLVI 
The    Incomes   of    Magazine    and    Newspaper 
Writerb 244 

CHAPTER  XLVII 
The  Remuneration  Received  by  the  Favored 
Few 247 

CHAPTER  XLVIII 
Records  op  Manuscriptc 251 


THE 
ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

CHAPTER  I 
Ektxbino  a  Ltteeabt  Camxmm 

WOULD  I  advise  one  to  take  up  literature, 
or  any  other  class  of  writing,  save  journal- 
istic work,  as  a  means  for  a  livelihood,  and  to  de- 
vote his  energies  exclusively  to  the  production  of 
books  and  other  literary  matter? 

It  is  easier  to  ask  the  question  than  it  is  to  an- 
swer it.  It  is  true  that  many  men  and  women, 
even  thousands  of  them,  earn  their  living  with 
their  pens,  and  some  of  them  have  obtained  fame. 

Certainly  no  work  is  more  fascinating  or  more 
deeply  appeals  to  the  inner  emotions  and  senti- 
ments than  literature  does. 

Literature  may  be  considered  the  world's  best 

1 


2         THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

vehicle  of  progress.  Without  it,  civilization 
would  never  have  a  chance  to  expand. 

Nations,  as  well  as  people,  are  known  by  their 
literature. 

The  spoken  word  may  lose  itself  in  the  atmos- 
phere, but  the  printed  word  may  live  forever. 

There  are  few  callings  which  have  a  right  to 
occupy,  with  the  litterateur,  the  front  of  the 
stage  of  life. 

Good  literature  fairly  breeds  self-satisfaction 
of  a  kind  which  the  literary  man  has  a  right  to 
be  proud  of. 

Not  only  is  the  successful  writer  satisfied  with 
himself,  but  he  has  the  even  greater  satisfaction 
of  knowing  that  he  is  one  of  the  pillars  of  civili- 
zation, one  of  the  main  props  of  the  house  of 
immortality. 

Nevertheless,  from  the  heights,  we  must  drop 
to  the  earth  itself,  and  we  must  consider  litera- 
ture, for  the  time  being,  as  a  commodity,  that  we 
may  view  it  commercially  as  well  as  ethically. 

If  one  is  not  self-supporting,  I  would  advise 
him  not  to  launch  his  craft  upon  the  sea  of  litera- 
ture, unless  he  has  an  anchor  ready  to  be   cast 


ENTERING  A  LITERARY  CAREER      3 

to  windward,  and  there  is  attached  to  it  a  cable 
strong  enough  to  hold. 

Many  of  the  most  successful  writers  occupy 
salaried  or  remunerative  positions,  and  are  not 
obliged  to  butter  their  bread  with  their  pens. 
They  take  up  writing,  not  always  as  a  side  issue, 
but  as  an  extra  duty.  They  provide  for  them- 
selves financially  in  some  other  way,  and  do  not 
let  go  their  grasp  on  their  regular  profession 
or  trade,  until  they  are  well  established  as  writers. 

Upon  general  principles,  I  would  not  advise 
any  would-be  author  to  enter  the  field  of  litera- 
ture, unaccompanied  by  a  flour  barrel  and  a  lunch 
basket,  because  it  may  be  some  time  before  even 
his  best  work  will  be  sufficient  to  pay  for  food  and 
clothing. 

Every  man  or  woman,  rich  or  poor,  should  be 
sufficiently  familiar  with  some  trade,  business,  or 
profession  to  be  able  to  earn  his  living,  that  he 
may  have  proper  food  and  clothing,  and  may  not 
become  a  burden  upon  his  friends  or  his  com- 
munity. Then,  and  only  then,  do  I  think  it  is 
safe  for  him  to  consider  the  making  of  literature 
the  means  of  livelihood. 


4         THE  ART  OF^  STORY  WRITING 

If  he  is  fairly  well  provided  for,  or  is  earning 
a  living,  he  will,  in  most  cases,  have  opportunity 
to  test  his  literary  strength. 

If  he  fails,  he  has  lost  so  much  time.  If  he 
succeeds,  he  may  take  up  literature  exclusively. 

So  long  as  this  world  has  a  material  side  to  it, 
and  while  the  possession  of  money  is  necessary  to 
feed  the  material  boiler,  without  which  the  mental 
engine  will  not  run,  it  is  well  for  one  to  consider 
the  material,  and  to  have  some  grasp  upon  it,  be- 
fore he  looks  up  into  the  clouds,  which,  however 
beautiful  they  may  be,  are  not  sufficient  to  sus- 
tain life. 

The  beauty  of  literature,  and  of  everything 
else  which  appeals  to  our  better  selves,  cannot 
warm  the  fireless  body,  or,  by  itself  alone,  furnish 
clothing,  food,  or  lodging. 

If  you  have  the  ability  to  write,  you  have  the 
capacity  to  be  self-supporting.  But  do  not  at- 
tempt to  feed  the  world  with  words  on  an  empty 
stomach.  Ground  yourself  sufficiently  in  the 
material,  to  be  able  to  meet  the  necessities  of  life. 
With  these  as  a  foundation,  you  may  then  attempt 
to  do  those  better  things  which  lift  man  above  the 


ENTERING  A  LITERARY  CAREER      5 

animal  and  make  the  material  of  second  conse- 
quence. At  the  start,  it  is  not  of  second  conse- 
quence,—  it  is  of  first  importance. 

The  literature  that  lives  is  from  the  mind  of 
living  writers,  not  from  those  who  have  not  suf- 
ficient of  the  necessities  of  life  to  more  than 
kindle  the  fire  which  bums  in  the  head  of  litera- 
ture. 

Then,  no  one  can  write  living  words  who  has 
not  lived,  who  has  not  experienced  material 
things,  who  has  not  seen  the  dull,  unpolished  side 
of  the  shield  of  life,  which,  without  it,  could  not 
sustain  the  glory  of  the  other  side. 

If  you  would  be  a  literary  light,  store  material 
oil,  or  your  light  will  flicker  and  go  out. 


CHAPTER  II 
The  Writing  of  Novels 

THE  would-be  novelist,  or  writer  of  fiction, 
naturally  is  looking  for  some  one  to  tell 
him  what  he  should  know,  and  what  he  should  do, 
to  become  proficient  in  his  prospective  calling. 
He  will  continue  his  inquiries  up  to  the  limit  of 
his  capacity  to  question,  and  he  may  expect  an 
answer ;  but  he  will  not  find  it  in  this  book,  or  re- 
ceive a  truthful  answer  to  his  inquiry,  or  any 
answer  at  all,  except  one  based  upon  generali- 
ties ;  because,  if  there  were  ever  any  rules  or  regu- 
lations for  the  production  of  the  novel  or  the  work 
of  fiction,  they  are  hidden  so  far  below  the  sur- 
face that  neither  the  modern  dredge  nor  the  pene- 
trating digger  is  large  enough,  strong  enough,  or 
sharp  enough,  to  excavate  them. 

It  would  be  as  difficult  for  me,  or  for  any  other 
writer,  to  furnish  specific  directions  for  the  writ- 

6 


THE  WRITING  OF  NOVELS  7 

ing  or  making  of  fiction,  as  it  would  be  to  frame 
a  statute  law  which  the  state  could  effectively  use 
for  the  manufacture  of  gentlemen.  All  that  I  can 
do,  and  all  that  anybody  else  can  do,  is  to  make 
a  few  suggestions,  which  may  and  may  not  be  of 
assistance  to  one  who  would  produce  fiction. 

A  novel,  or  work  of  fiction,  as  commonly  de- 
fined, 18  a  written  or  printed  story,  having  one  or 
more  leading  characters,  who  appear  upon  the 
paper  stage,  and  act  according  to  the  directions 
of  the  author,  say  the  things  he  writes  into  their 
mouths,  whether  or  not  the  plot  or  action  of  the 
story  is  founded  upon  what  has  actually  occurred. 

The  author  assumes  the  right  to  make  his  char- 
acters do  and  say  what  he  wants  them  to  do  and 
say,  and  to  create  situations  for  them.  If  he  is 
wise,  he  will  have  them  say  the  words,  and  do  the 
things,  which  he  thinks  they  would  say  and  do 
if  they  were  subjected  to  the  conditions  and  en- 
vironments in  which  he  has  placed  them. 

Literary  license  permits  the  fiction  writer  to 
exaggerate,  to  create  impossible  conditions  and 
situations,  and  to  do  practically  what  he  pleases 
with   his   characters,  provided   that   he   produces 


8         THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

something  interesting  to  a  sufficient  number  of 
readers  to  justify  the  publication  of  his  work. 

The  best  novels  are,  however,  those  which  are 
realistic  and  natural,  with  characters  and  scenes 
drawn  from  real  life,  although  not  necessarily 
from  common,  everyday  life.  Extraordinary 
characters,  doing  extraordinary  things,  and  say- 
ing extraordinary  words,  are  not,  however,  ob- 
jectionable, if  an  extraordinary,  and  yet  possible, 
environment  is  provided  for  them. 

While  the  mirror  of  fiction  should  reflect  nature, 
it  need  not  reflect'  only  the  common  things  we  see, 
or  be  the  sounding  board  for  the  common  words 
we  hear. 

The  average  successful  novel  has,  for  its  lead- 
ing character  or  characters,  a  man  and  woman,  or 
men  and  women,  who  are  able  to  converse  more  in- 
telligently and  more  brilliantly  than  can  the  ma- 
jority of  people  we  meet.  The  tame,  everyday, 
ordinary  character  cannot  sustain  a  leading  part 
in  a  novel.  If  ordinary  men  and  women  are  to  be 
introduced,  they  should  appear  as  supernumer- 
aries. The  floor  of  the  stage  of  the  story  may 
be  on  common  ground,  but  upon  it  must  appear 


THE  WRITING  OF  NOVELS  9 

characters  which  walk  faster  than  most  folks  walk, 
and  scenes  which,  although  natural  and  true  to 
life,  are,  at  least,  somewhat  unusual. 

Comparatively  few  novels  are  without  two 
prominent  characters, —  one  a  man,  the  other  a 
woman, —  and  the  author  usually  makes  them 
into  lovers,  and  allows  them  to  marry  at  some 
stage  in  the  story,  but  postpones  the  wedding  un- 
til the  last  chapter. 

Few  successful  works  of  fiction  are  without 
sentiment, —  portrayals  of  love  between  men  and 
women.  The  shadows,  as  well  as  the  sunbeams, 
of  love  should  be  in  evidence,  and  the  author  al- 
most invariably  introduces  disaster  of  some  kind, 
with  the  assistance  of  one  or  more  disreputable 
characters,  or  villains. 

It  is  obvious  that  even  the  purest  fiction  needs 
a  dark  setting  for  the  full  display  of  its  white- 
ness; and  the  author,  therefore,  may  very  prop- 
erly introduce  characters  and  situations,  which, 
by  contrast,  allow  the  hero  and  heroine  to  appear 
in  a  light  which  would  not  seem  to  be  as  clear  or 
as  brilliant  if  the  scenes  and  situations  of  the 
story    permitted    no    contrast.     It    would    seem, 


10       THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

then,  that  contrast,  or  difference,  should  be  a  part 
of  the  composition  of  the  successful  novel,  and  of 
other  works  of  fiction,  even  of  adventure;  and 
love  in  no  way  interferes  with  the  excitement  of 
danger,  but  rather  enhances  its  intensity. 

The  historical  novel,  that  is,  fiction  written 
around  historical  facts,  need  not  necessarily  con- 
tain more  than  a  small  amount  of  sentiment,  but 
there  would  appear  to  be  no  good  reason  why  the 
silken  thread  of  love  should  not  be  interwoven  into 
the  dark  fabric  of  the  past. 

The  acceptable  novel  has,  as  a  rule,  plenty  of 
action.  The  characters  do  not  sit  still  or  lei- 
surely walk  or  talk.  They  do  something  or  say 
something,  except  within  the  pauses  of  descrip- 
tion or  explanation.  They  are  passed  rapidly 
from  one  situation  to  another;  meet  alternately 
with  good  luck  and  with  disaster;  they  are  kept 
on  the  firing-line,  ever  ready  for  action ;  they  are 
grouped  in  the  daylight  and  transferred  in  the 
dark ;  and  by  word  of  mouth  and  action  they  make 
it  unnecessary  for  the  author  to  insert  long  para- 
graphs of  explanation  or  pages  of  moralizing. 

The    successful    novel    somewhat    resembles    a 


THE  WRITING  OF  NOVELS  11 

play,  except  that  the  play  is  all  dialogue  or  con- 
versation. 

Practically  all  of  the  acceptable  novels  have  a 
happy  ending.  If  the  story  is  one  of  love  or 
sentiment,  the  male  character  invariably  wins  the 
woman  of  his  choice,  even  though  the  author  finds 
it  expedient  to  have  him  lose  her  a  dozen  times, 
and  to  fight  a  hundred  battles  to  win  her.  Mis- 
understanding and  intrigue  often  occur,  but  every- 
thing is  cleared  up  before  the  book  closes. 

As  I  have  already  intimated,  most  of  the  best 
novels,  and  the  so-called  best  sellers,  even  though 
they  may  be  purely  fiction,  are  drawn  from  life, 
and  frequently  the  characters  are  living,  or  have 
lived,  in  the  flesh.  The  names  of  persons  and 
places  have  been  changed,  and  situations  which 
have  occurred  have  been  portrayed,  or  new  ones 
have  been  created.  If  the  later  method  is  used, 
the  proficient  author  makes  his  characters  do  and 
act  as  they  would  if  they  were  literally  placed 
within  the  environment,  or  under  the  conditions, 
that  the  author  has  created  for  them. 

From  among  his  friends  or  acquaintances,  the 
author  selects  characters  tc  represent  his  heroes. 


12       THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

and  as  many  other  characters  as  are  essential  for 
the  working  out  of  the  plot.  He  carries  these 
characters  through  the  book,  attempting  to  make 
each  one  do  and  say  what  he  imagines  they  would 
do  and  say  under  similar  conditions.  In  no  other 
way  can  he  hope  to  produce  a  story  both  realistic 
and  interesting.  It  is  not  necessary  that  the 
characters  should  have  experienced,  in  real  life, 
aU  of  the  conditions  created  for  them  in  the  story, 
if  the  author  is  sufficiently  close  to  his  characters, 
and  has  the  ability  to  so  diagnose  their  character- 
istics, that  at  no  time  they  are  likely  to  get  far 
away  from  what  they  would  probably  do  under  the 
given  circumstances. 

The  author  begins  by  the  construction  of  a 
plot;  that  is  to  say,  he  outlines  the  scheme  of 
his  story,  either  with  or  without  writing  it  upon 
paper.  He  has  before  him  a  mental  picture  of 
what  he  purposes  to  have  occur,  and  the  places 
which  are  necessary  for  the  carrying  out  of  his 
story.  Of  course,  he  has  a  right  to  take  liber- 
ties with  his  characters,  and  with  the  situations 
in  which  he  has  placed  them.  His  descriptions  of 
places  need  not  be  geographically  correct,  so  long 


THE  WRITING  OF  NOVELS  13 

as  similar  places  exist  or  could  exist.  His  char- 
actors  remain  and  work  out  their  destiny  in  his 
brain;  and  while  thus  engaged,  he  writes  about 
them,  giving  each  a  touch  of  the  real,  which  would 
be  impossible  if  he  did  not  keep  in  the  closest  con- 
tact  with  them  and  the  environment  he  has  created 
for  them. 

While  much  latitude  is  allowed,  descriptions  of 
places  should  be  taken  from  what  exists,  but  two 
or  more  places  may  be  combined  into  one.  A 
reasonable  amount  of  elimination  is  permissible, 
but  do  not  attempt  to  create  a  town  or  locality 
out  of  your  own  mind.  Select  a  place  that  you 
know  something  about,  and  allow  your  action  to 
occur  within  it.  This  will  materially  assist  you, 
and  add  much  realism  to  your  story.  Have  a 
real  town  or  one  which  approaches  the  real,  and 
place  real  characters  within  it,  making  them  do 
what  you  think  they  would  do  if  they  were  there 
and  subjected  to  the  conditions  you  have  made  for 
them. 

Realism  plus  imagination  makes  the  best  com- 
bination. One  without  the  other  is  not  likely  to 
be  interesting  to  the  average  reader. 


U       THE  ART  01  STORY  WRITING 

Now  as  to  style.  There  is  no  acceptable  one, 
and  there  is  no  definite  rule  covering  it.  It  is 
obvious  that  no  matter  how  much  you  have  read 
or  studied,  you  cannot  hope  to  succeed,  except  in 
a  very  moderate  way,  unless  you  possess  a  style 
of  your  own,  not  necessarily  one  which  is  a  great 
departure  from  the  styles  of  others,  but  one  in 
which  there  is  something  which  is  characteristic  of 
you,  and  not  an  exact  copy  of  others. 

The  greatest  artist  cannot  acceptably  dupli- 
cate a  great  painting  from  the  brush  of  another. 
He  may  obtain  inspiration  from  it,  but  the  real 
brush-work  must  be  his  own,  if  he  would  produce 
more  than  a  mere  copy. 

The  writer  of  fiction  should  be  well  read.  He 
should  be  familiar  with  literature  in  general,  and 
intimately  acquainted  with  novels,  and  the  lives, 
methods,  characteristics,  and  moods  of  the  novel- 
ist. He  will  naturally  absorb  some  of  the  style 
of  others,  but  provided  he  does  not  actually  repro- 
duce it,  this  borrowing  will  not  injure  his  work. 
Above  all,  he  must  be  himself, —  he  cannot  be  any- 
body else  and  succeed.  He  cannot  successfully 
duplicate  the  success  of  another. 


THE  WRITING  OF  NOVELS  16 

Individuality  counts  more  in  literature  than  it 
does  in  any  other  department  of  work.  Without 
personality,  no  book  can  be  more  than  mediocre. 
If  you  have  not  enough  of  it  to  produce  a  good 
story,  take  up  some  other  calling. 

I  regret  to  say  that  fully  ninety  per  cent  of 
book  writers  would  be  better  off  if  they  shelved 
their  literary  ambition.  They  cannot,  or  do  not, 
produce  matter  worthy  of  publication;  and  any 
attempt  on  their  part  outrages  the  public  taste 
and  is  a  failure,  even  though  their  work  may  be 
printed.  Do  not  allow  yourself  to  feel  that  you 
possess  great  story-writing  ability,  because  in- 
discriminating  friends  flatter  you.  I  will  guaran- 
tee to  produce  a  manuscript,  worthless  and  sense- 
less, and  yet  find  among  my  friends  at  least  a 
dozen  who  will  tell  me  that  I  have  written  a  work 
of  merit.  The  majority  of  our  friends  either 
do  not  discriminate,  or  are  unintentionally  un- 
fair. They  condemn  what  should  not  be  con- 
demned, and  praise  what  should  not  be  praised. 
Most  of  them  will  tell  the  writer  what  he  wants  to 
be  told,  irrespective  of  the  truth. 

The  opinion  of  one  friend,  even  though  he  be 


16       THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

a  literary  expert,  should  not  be  considered  con- 
clusive, whether  he  condemns  a  manuscript  or 
commends  it.  The  judgment  of  several  discrim- 
inating literary  persons  should  be  obtained,  if 
possible,  before  the  manuscript  is  sent  to  the  pub- 
lisher. 

Of  course,  I  am  aware  that  many  a  manuscript 
has  been  uncompromisingly  condemned,  and  yet 
the  reading  public  has  placed  upon  it  the  stamp 
of  approval.  And,  conversely,  it  is  true  that  hun- 
dreds of  manuscripts  have  received  enthusiastic  ap- 
proval and  have  passed  muster,  yet  have  been 
dismal  failures. 

Public  opinion  is  the  only  court  of  final  resort, 
and  even  that  is  not  infallible,  for  the  public  has 
accepted,  read,  and  purchased  thousands  of  books 
which  desecrate  white  paper. 

There  is  not,  at  the  present  time,  any  rule, 
gauge,  or  scale  which  will  accurately  measure  or 
weigh  literary  values.  Books  succeed  without  ap- 
parent literary  or  other  quality,  and  books  fail  to 
meet  public  approval  when  they  are  worthy  of  the 
highest  commendation. 

The  competent  literary  adviser,  reader,  or  ex- 


THE  WRITING  OF  NOVELS  17 

pert,  will  tell  you  that  neither  he,  nor  any  one 
else,  can  diagnose  the  future  of  a  manuscript,  with 
more  than  an  ordinary  degree  of  correctness. 
But  this  condition  must  not  be  taken  by  the  would- 
be  writer  to  indicate  that  he  should,  or  should 
not,  attempt  to  produce  literature.  If  he  is  in- 
competent to  do  so,  sooner  or  later  he  will  meet 
his  Waterloo,  even  though  several  of  his  books 
may  appear  to  be  well  armored.  If  he  has  in  him 
the  stuff  that  authorship  is  made  of,  he  will  win 
in  the  end,  if  he  lives  long  enough. 

Thousands  of  would-be  writers  believe  that  they 
have  been  called  to  write  fiction,  and  they  write; 
and  occasionally  gain  the  appearance  of  success. 
The  mere  call  to  write  should  not  be  considered  as 
prima  facie  evidence  of  literary  ability,  until  the 
call  comes  from  several  disconnected  directions. 

Any  one  with  an  education  may  feed  upon  a 
dictionary  and  string  words  together,  and  the  lines 
and  sentences  may  be  of  good  construction  and  not 
outrage  the  rules  of  rhetoric;  and  yet,  compara- 
tively few  can  lay  tracks  with  words  fit  for  the 
train  of  public  approval  to  travel  upon. 

Fiction   writing,   with   a   possible   exception   of 


18       THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

play  writing,  is  the  most  remunerative  of  all. 
More  money  has  probably  been  made  by  story 
writing  than  in  any  other  form  of  literature.  The 
field  is  broad  and  unconfined,  although  strewn 
with  the  rocks  of  competition,  the  intervening 
spaces  being  filled  with  ever-growing  crops. 

Let  not  the  would-be  writer  comfort  himself 
with  the  feeling  that  because  he  has  an  education 
he  can  produce  acceptable  fiction.  Some  educa- 
tion is  necessary  for  the  proper  handling  or  jug- 
gling of  words,  but  it  is  a  fact  that  many  of  our 
greatest  novelists  did  not  pass  academically  be- 
yond the  common  school. 

I  am  not  condemning  a  college  education  for 
the  would-be  novelist.  It  should  help  him.  But 
a  liberal  education  in  itself  will  be  of  little  value, 
unless  the  holder  of  it  has  the  proper  tempera- 
ment and  imagination,  and  the  ability  to  create 
well-conceived  and  stirring  scenes,  and  to  con- 
struct dialogue  or  conversation  which  will,  at 
least,  appear  to  ring  true  to  life,  and  present  to 
the  reader  the  kind  of  matter  which  will  interest 
and  entertain  him  with  or  without  instructing! 
him. 


THE  WRITING  OF  NOVELS  19 

In  other  chapters  I  have  discussed  several 
phases  of  fiction  writing,  and  have  spoken  par- 
ticularly of  the  financial  returns. 

Probably  more  writers,  and  would-be  writers, 
take  up  fiction  than  any  other  class  of  literature, 
because  it  appeals  to  them,  and  because  it  is  sup- 
posed to  be  the  most  remunerative* 


CHAPTER  III 

The  Writing  of  a  Short  Stoey 

THE  number  of  short-story  writers  is  legion. 
Probably  more  than  half  a  million  men  and 
women  in  the  United  States  and  Canada  think 
that  they  can  write,  and  do  write,  short  stories. 
Not  more  than  five  per  cent  of  these  are  pub- 
lished, unless  they  are  sent  to  country  weeklies, 
which  are  not  likely  to  pay  anything  for  them. 

It  has  been  said  that  it  is  more  difficult  to  write 
a  short  story  than  it  is  to  compose  a  novel.  At 
any  rate,  I  think  there  are  more  successful  book 
writers  than  there  are  short-story  writers.  It  is 
extremely  diflScult  to  handle  any  subject,  or  any 
character,  in  a  few  thousand  words. 

The  short  story,  then,  to  be  successful,  must 
cover  its  ground,  not  only  by  the  words  it  con- 
tains, but  by  inference.  It  must  pass  quickly 
from  one  scene  to  another;  the  dialogue  must  be 


THE  WRITING  OF  A  SHORT  STORY      21 

bright  and  snappy;  and,  as  in  a  play,  the  author 
must  make  his  characters  self-explanatory  to  a 
large  extent. 

Many  short-story  writers  make  a  great  mistake 
in  attempting  to  handle  too  many  characters  and 
situations.  It  is  better  to  have  not  more  than 
two  or  three  prominent  characters,  and  to  confine 
the  action  of  the  story  to  one  place  or  to  a  very 
few  places.  If  more  characters  are  used,  it  is  dif- 
ficult, within  the  limited  space,  to  show  reason  for 
their  existence;  and  if  they  arc  frequently  trans- 
planted from  one  place  to  another,  some  explana- 
tion must  be  given,  which  lengthens  out  the  story 
and  makes  it  too  short  for  a  book  and  too  long 
for  a  short  story. 

The  book  writer  has  opportunity  to  describe 
his  persons  and  places.  The  short-story  writer 
must  get  down  to  business,  so  to  speak,  present 
characters,  which  will  be  readily  understood,  and 
confine  the  dialogue  to  quick  action,  more  or  less 
self-explanatory,  pertinent,  and  to  the  point.  He 
must  so  arrange  this  dialogue  that,  although  it 
is  obviously  incomplete,  it  will  comprehensively 
carry  the  story. 


22       THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

Let  us  suppose,  for  example,  that  his  characters 
are  talking  upon  a  certain  subject.  It  is  ob- 
vious that  thej  would  naturally  say  many  times 
as  much  as  the  author  has  room  for  in  his  story. 
He  must  weed  out  with  a  harrow,  and  yet,  in  do- 
ing  so,  not  make  his  dialogue  jerky  or  apparently 
incomplete. 

Most  of  the  successful  short  stories  are,  at 
least,  half  dialogue.  Much  space  can  be  saved 
by  omitting  "  he  said,"  "  said  he,"  "  replied  he,"  or 
"  he  replied,"  which  need  not  be  used,  except 
when  the  omission  would  confuse  the  reader.  In  a 
dialogue,  "  he  said  "  and  the  like  need  not  accom- 
pany more  than  a  third  of  the  spoken  words. 

Of  course,  when  more  than  two  are  speaking,  it 
is  necessary  to  precede  or  follow  their  remarks 
with  "John  said,"  "I  said,"  or  "I  replied,'' 
otherwise  the   reader  will  become  confused. 

The  characters  should  not  be  permitted  to  speak 
more  than  two  hundred  words  at  the  outside  with- 
out an  interruption.  If  necessary  for  them  to  de- 
liver a  sort  of  lecture,  what  they  say  should  be 
broken  up  into  paragraphs,  with  the  use  of  "  re- 
sumed he,"  "  he  resumed,"  or  "  he  continued." 


THE  WRITING  OF  A  SHORT  STORY     23 

It  is  popularly  supposed  that  characters  will 
write  themselves,  so  to  speak.  This  is  true,  to  an 
extent,  but  occurs  more  in  books  than  in  short 
stories. 

The  short-story  writer  should  lay  out  his  plot 
or  scheme  in  advance,  using  the  fewest  number  of 
characters,  and  one  or  two  places.  With  this 
working  outline  in  his  mind,  he  places  these  char- 
acters in  their  situations  and  makes  them  work 
out  his  story,  rapidly,  and  yet  not  apparently 
abruptly. 

If  the  story  is  one  of  adventure,  or  largely  de- 
scriptive of  some  particular  place,  there  may  be 
less  dialogue  or  conversation.  It  is  always  ad- 
visable, whenever  it  is  possible  to  do  so,  to  make 
the  characters  explain  the  situation,  rather  than 
to  have  long  descriptions  or  explanations  between 
the  "  heats  "  of  conversation. 

The  inexperienced  short-story  writer  is  very 
prone  to  moralize,  to  overdescribe,  to  make  what 
he  calls  a  character-study.  It  is,  then,  more  of 
an  essay  than  a  story,  and  is  less  interesting  to 
the  reader. 

A  short  story  must  fairly  radiate  life  and  ac- 


M      THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

tion.  The  characters  must  do  things  and  sa^ 
things.  It  should  end  with  a  sort  of  climax,  not 
necessarily  a  sensational  one.  Either  the  con- 
versation, or  a  short  explanation,  should  bring 
things  up  to  a  finish.  If  the  leading  character  is 
to  die  in  the  last  paragraph,  he  either  must  have 
completed  his  work,  or  else  his  sudden  taking  away 
must  be  satisfactory  to  the  reader. 

Stories  with  sad  endings  are  not  popular. 

If  you  are  writing  a  sentimental  short  story, 
either  marry  the  couple  or  assure  the  reader  that 
they  are  going  to  be  married. 

If  there  is  a  villain  in  the  story,  he  should  re- 
ceive his  deserts  before  the  story  closes.  Either 
punish  him  or  reform  him.  Do  not  leave  him 
where  he  was  in  the  first  place. 

If  the  story  is  of  adventure,  do  not  let  a  wild 
beast  kill  your  hero  in  the  last  paragraph.  He 
must  come  out  ahead  of  the  game,  but  there  is  no 
particular  objection  to  allowing  a  lion  to  get  the 
better  of  the  villain. 

If  a  husband  and  wife  lead  the  story,  and  they 
have  misunderstandings,  let  them  kiss  each  other 
before   you   are   through  with   them,   or   obtain   a 


THE  WRITING  OF  A  SHORT  STORY      25 

respectable  divorce,  each  to  marry  somebody 
else. 

If  there  is  nothing  sensational,  or  out  of  the 
ordinary,  then  your  characters  must  be  unusually 
brilliant  and  their  conversation  about  common 
things  above  the  average  in  wit  and  pointedness. 

The  public  does  not  want  to  know  how  a  mother 
toasted  cheese,  unless  the  toasting  of  cheese  plays 
an  important  part  on  the  domestic  stage.  Each 
character  must  either  do  something  which  is  a 
little  unusual,  or  say  common  things  in  a  brilliant 
way.  They  should  act  and  talk  as  they  would 
probably  do,  if  placed  in  the  situations  created 
for  them,  subject  to  permissible  exaggeration. 
If  they  merely  appear  to  represent  the  author's 
style,  and  do  not  have  what  is  an  apparent  per- 
sonality of  their  own,  then  the  story,  even 
though  it  may  be  filled  with  conversation,  is  but 
a  verbal  essay. 

The  characters  should  show  diverse  character- 
istics. There  should  be  no  two  of  them  alike. 
Each  one  should  appear  to  be  a  sort  of  specialist 
of  his  kind,  however  natural  the  portrayal  may 
be. 


96      THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

Descriptions  should  doTetail  into  the  policy  of 
the  story.  If,  for  example,  your  hero  is  a  miner, 
there  is  no  need  of  describing  the  general  con- 
dfitions  of  his  mining  town,  unless  they  have  a 
bearing  upon  the  story  itself.  Better  keep  your 
miner  in  the  mine  or  near  the  mine,  and  let  him 
associate  almost  entirely  with  those  he  comes  in 
contact  with  in  real  life.  Do  not  run  off  at  a 
tangent,  and  attempt  to  describe  what  is  not  per- 
tinent to  the  story,  or  to  take  the  character  out  of 
tibe  story's  environment.  Concentrate  both  com- 
position and  description,  keeping  close  within  the 
lines  of  what  it  is  necessary  for  the  reader  to 
know,  that  he  may  understand  the  situation. 

Do  not  have  too  many  sides  to  a  character.  Do 
not  attempt  to  cover  the  whole  town. 

The  successful  short  story  is  about  a  few  peo- 
ple, and  what  they  do  in  a  short  period  of  time 
wiOun  a  limited  territory. 

Of  course,  you  can  allow  several  years  to  elapse 
between  one  incident  and  another,  but  even  then 
joa  need  not  change  either  your  characters  or 
horses  on  the  trip,  and  the  lapsing  period  of  sev- 
eral jears  requires  but  a  line  for  explanation. 


THE  WRITING  OF  A  SHORT  STORY    «7 

Short  stories  may  begin  with  a  cooTersation, 
or  with  a  description,  and  maj  dose  with  a  few 
words  of  one  of  the  characters,  or  the  story  maj 
end  with  a  brief  simwiiiig  op. 

Short  stories  should  contain  not  less  than 
twentj-fire  hundred  words,  nor  more  than  fire  or 
six  thousand. 


CHAPTER  IV 

The  Stoey  of  Adventure 

THE  story  of  adventure,  including  the  por- 
trayal of  danger,  and  of  even  hairbreadth 
escapes,  is,  and  always  will  be,  of  selling  quality. 
Every  magazine,  and  all  other  periodicals,  publish 
one  or  more  of  these  stories  every  year ;  and  there 
are  two  magazines  devoted  exclusively  to  this  class 
of  literature. 

The  story  of  adventure,  which  is  realistic  and 
interesting,  and  holds  the  attention  of  the  reader, 
is  invariably  written  by  one  familiar  with  the  life 
depicted.  One  who  is  not,  should  not  attempt  to 
produce  it.  If  he  does,  he  will  be  writing  at  arm's 
length,  and  is  not  likely  to  give  out  anything 
which  will  meet  with  more  than  indifferent  accept- 
ance. 

No  one  can  properly  present  the  sport  of  fish- 
ing, who  is  not  a  fisherman,  and  who  has  not  as- 

28 


THE  STORY  OF  ADVENTURE         ^9 

sociated  with  fishermen.  It  is  impossible  for  any 
one  to  place  upon  paper  a  vivid  description  of 
the  woods,  unless  he  has  lived  in  them  and  tramped 
through  them.  One  unfamiliar  with  wild  beasts 
should  keep  the  jungle  out  of  his  stories. 

While  experience  with  danger  and  with  adven- 
ture is  not,  in  itself,  sufficient  for  the  writing  of 
this  class  of  literature,  and  while  ability  properly 
to  present  what  has  occurred  is  essential,  it  is  ob- 
vious that  no  amount  of  ability  will  produce  an  ac- 
ceptable result  unless  the  writer  is  in  close  touch 
with  what  he  is  attempting  to  portray. 

The  story  of  adventure  must  be  vividly  and 
strikingly  realistic,  and  should,  as  a  rule,  have 
a  happy  or  successful  ending.  The  adventurer, 
or  the  principal  characters  in  the  story,  should  not 
be  killed,  but  should  come  out  victorious. 

Occasionally  it  is  possible  for  a  seasoned 
writer  to  produce  an  acceptable  story  of  adven- 
ture, taking  his  points  from  one  who  has  experi- 
enced it;  but  familiarity  with  danger  will  enable 
him  better  to  report  what  is  told  him,  than  he  pos- 
sibly can  if  he  has  only  the  tale  of  one  who  has 
passed   through  the  scenes.     Therefore,   I  would 


30       THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

say  that  one  had  better  not  attempt  this  class  of 
writing,  unless  he  has  experienced  the  unusual, 
and  has  a  temperament  which  will  allow  him  to 
write  out  facts  and  impressions  vividly. 

The  writing  of  regular  or  ordinary  matter  or 
literature  is  easier,  and  is  hkely  to  be  more  ac- 
ceptable to  the  reader. 


CHAPTER  V 
The  Mystbry  Stouy 

THERE  is,  at  present,  a  demand,  which  may 
not  be  permanent,  for  stories  of  mystery, 
containing  intricate  plots,  each  character  confus- 
ing the  others  and  the  reader,  the  riddle  to  be 
solved  in  the  last  chapter. 

It  is  difficult  to  form  the  plot  of  a  mystery  story 
so  as  to  sustain  the  interest  of  the  reader  for  sev- 
eral hundred  pages,  and  then  to  clear  up  the 
puzzle  in  a  few  words  or  pages. 

I  would  advise  the  would-be  novelist  not  to  at- 
tempt the  mystery  form  of  story,  unless  he  has 
reason  to  believe  that  he  can  skillfully  construct 
the  plot,  and  create  action,  which,  in  itself,  will 
be  interesting.  Of  course,  all  stories  should  carry 
the  reader  to  the  solution,  and  there  should  be 
some  mystery  in  them,  but  this  cannot  be  handled 

SI 


32       THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

with  the  intensity  of  the  successful  mystery  novel 
except  by  a  few  writers. 

Not  one  writer  in  a  thousand, —  I  may  say,  not 
one  writer  in  ten  thousand, —  can  successfully 
originate  or  write  out  a  mystery  story. 

Better  not  attempt  the  very  difficult,  until  you 
have  mastered  the  simpler  forms  of  story  writing. 


CHAPTER  VI 
The  Detective  Stobt 

THE  marvelous  success  of  Dr.  Dojle,  prin- 
cipally with  his  **  Sherlock  Holmes,"  has 
flooded  the  market  with  detective  stories  of  every 
class  and  grade,  most  of  them  too  improbable  to 
be  interesting  and  entertaining. 

No  one  can  write  an  acceptable  detective  story, 
unless  he  has  the  detective  instinct,  which  he  may 
possess  without  being  a  professional  detective. 

I  would  not  advise  the  young  writer  to  attempt 
a  story  of  a  detective  nature,  unless  some  detec- 
tive or  officer  has  outlined  the  scheme  for  him, 
until  be  has  come  in  contact  with  those  things 
which  make  up  a  detective's  work. 

He  cannot  be  realistic,  unless  he  has  lived  in 
the  atmosphere  of  crime,  either  as  a  detective  or 
officer,  or  in  close  association  with  it. 

He  may  be  able  to  produce,  in  his  imagination. 
SS 


^       THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

a  detective  story  which  reads  smoothly  to  the 
average  reader;  but  it  is  obvious  that  his  im- 
perfectly constructed  scheme  will  meet  with  harsh 
criticisms  from  newspaper  men  and  others,  who 
will  readily  detect  the  writer's  inexperience  and 
unfamiliarity  with  the  subject.  Here,  as  in 
other  places,  I  would  advise  the  young  writer  not 
to  attempt  anything  out  of  the  ordinary  in  the 
way  of  plot,  until  he  becomes  familiar  with  neces- 
sary conditions,  and  has  a  mind  adaptable  to  them. 
When  in  doubt,  keep  in  the  middle  of  the  road 
of  literature.  Geniuses  and  experts  only  have  the 
right  of  way  over  the  sidetracks  and  bypaths. 


CHAPTER  Vn 
Stories  for  Children 

THERE  is  an  increasing  demand  for  chil- 
dren's stories, —  stories  for  children  to  read 
or  to  have  read  to  them. 

Because  it  is  so  difficult  to  write  this  class  of 
literature,  there  is  comparatively  little  of  it  on 
the  market ;  and  there  is,  perhaps,  more  opportu- 
nity in  this  direction  than  in  any  other.  Bear  in 
mind,  however,  that  it  is  more  difficult  to  write 
an  acceptable  children's  story,  than  it  is  to  pro- 
duce almost  anything  else  in  the  line  of  story 
writing. 

It  is  easier  for^the  educated  person  to  use  big 
words  than  to  practice  simplicity,  and  simplicity 
is  all  important  in  stories  for  children. 

No  one  has  ever  produced  a  second  "  Robinson 
Crusoe.'*  This  book  stands,  to-day,  as  the  great- 
est  story   ever   written   for   children   and  young 

35 


36       THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

people.  Every  word  is  simple,  every  sentence  can 
be  understood. 

The  experienced  writer,  particularly  if  he  be 
well-educated,  and  associates  with  literary  men, 
has  an  almost  unquenchable  tendency  to  produce 
a  style  which  certainly  does  not  represent  sim- 
plicity. He  uses  long  words  and  complex  sentences. 
His  meaning  is  not  always  easily  understood; 
his  situations  are  sometimes  difficult  to  com- 
prehend; his  descriptions  are  often  hard  to  grasp. 
Therefore,  he  cannot  produce  a  story  which  will 
interest  children,  and  if  he  attempts  to  do  so,  his 
failure  is  assured. 

The  successful  writer  of  stor'ies  for  children 
lays  his  plot  close  to  the  home.  His  incidents  are 
homemade;  and  unless  his  story  is  one  of  travel, 
he  does  not  often  remove  his  characters  beyond 
the  town  they  live  in. 

His  dialogues  and  conversations  are  simple  and 
natural;  his  characters  are  those  which  the  chil- 
dren understand,  because  they  live  with  them  or 
have  seen  them.  He  does  not  take  anything  for 
granted,  and  all  that  he  writes  is  self-explanatory, 
or  he  explains  it  in  the  simplest  words. 


STORIES  FOR  CHILDREN  37 

Nearly  every  newspaper  either  maintains  a 
children's  department  or  frequently  runs  stories 
jr  anecdotes  for  children;  and  the  call  for  this 
sort  of  matter  is  increasing.  Book  publishers 
are  looking  for  manuscripts  of  good  stories  for 
children,  and  many  magazines  carry  them. 

Do  not  attempt  to  produce  this  class  of  story 
unless  you  KNOW  children.  It  is,  however,  ad- 
mitted that  the  bearing  of  children  is  not  essential 
to  the  production  of  child  lore  or  story.  Many  of 
the  ablest  writers,  as  well  as  many  of  the  most  ef- 
ficient keepers  of  homes  for  children,  are  neither 
mothers  nor  wives;  in  fact,  experience  would  seem 
to  indicate  that  motherhood  is  not  always  condu- 
cive to  the  wisest  practice  of  child-care.  The 
maiden,  who  is  without  the  bias  of  motherhood,  and 
may  see  with  wider  vision  and  write  with  broader 
pen,  often  understands  the  child-problem  better 
than  does  she,  who,  because  she  is  a  mother,  can- 
not as  readily  differentiate  between  mother-love 
and  mother-duty. 

Speaking  of  simplicity,  it  should  be  cultivated 
by  writers  of  every  kind  of  literature. 

The  best  stories  are  simple;  the  best  writers, — 


S8       THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

those  who  live, —  did  not  spill  the  dictionary  over 
their  pages.  Although  their  plots  may  be  com- 
plicated and  mysterious,  and  they  may  handle 
weighty  subjects,  their  pen-  and  word-pictures 
approach  simplicity,  for  they  have  kneaded  clear- 
ness with  complexity  until  the  whole  lump  Is 
leavened  with  digestible  simplicity. 


CHAPTER  Vin 
HuMOBOus  Wettino 

THERE  always  has  been,  is,  and  always  will 
be,  a  market  for  good  humor.  I  am  sorry 
to  say,  however,  that  I  doubt  if  there  arc  more 
than  two  dozen  writers  of  humor  in  the  United 
States  who  earn  a  livelihood  with  their  pens. 

Most  of  the  so-called  funny  stories,  which  ap- 
pear in  the  newspapers,  are  copied  from  the  hu- 
morous papers,  or  are  written  by  staff  editors, 
who  receive  no  additional  pay  for  the  funny  stuff 
they  originate. 

The  humorous  papers  pay  good  prices,  but 
there  are  less  than  half  a  dozen  of  them  all  told. 
These  papers  usually  pay  the  writer  of  a  joke, 
occupying  an  inch  or  two  of  tjrpe,  from  one  to 
five  dollars.  The  authors  of  humorous  sketches, 
or  articles  appearing  in  these  papers,  receive  any- 
where from  five  to  twenty-five  dollars  for  a  short 

39 


40       THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

column.  It  is  obvious,  however,  that  the  avail- 
able space  in  all  these  periodicals  put  together  is 
very  limited.  It  is  also  self-evident  that  no  one 
humorous  paper  would  care  to  carry  more  than 
one  article  per  issue,  or  per  few  issues,  of  any  one 
writer.  Therefore,  the  humorous  writer,  even  of 
the  highest  grade,  may  not  find  a  field  for  more 
than  a  part  of  his  work. 

The  syndicate  offers  him,  perhaps,  the  best  op- 
portunity. With  one  or  two  exceptions,  I  think 
the  highest  price  ever  paid  for  syndicate  matter 
is  now  given  to  a  writer  of  humor.  It  is  said  that 
one  of  them  receives  over  a  thousand  dollars  for  an 
article  occupying  not  over  a  column,  but  he  is 
a  great  exception. 

The  demand  for  humorous  books  is  increasing, 
and  the  sale  of  some  of  them  is  enormous.  It  is 
obvious,  however,  that  the  humor  which  sells  must 
not  only  be  of  the  highest  quality,  but  highly  sea- 
sonable. Further,  there  must  be  interwoven  into 
the  very  fiber,  threads  of  philosophy  and  sense. 
The  book  must  stand  for  more  than  humor.  It 
must  have  action,  characters,  a  plot,  and  much 
dialogue. 


HUMOROUS  WRITING  41 

I  do  not  believe  that  it  is  possible  for  any  one 
to  learn  to  be  humorous.  One  may  have  a  keen 
sense  of  humor,  and  wear  a  perpetual  smile,  and 
yet  be  unable  to  produce  it. 

It  has  been  said, —  and  the  remark  is  not 
wholly  devoid  of  the  truth, —  that  the  humorist 
never  laughs,  and  that  the  man  who  laughs  is 
never  a  humorist  Many  a  man  is  witty  in  con- 
versation, and  yet  cannot  write  humorous  matter; 
and,  on  the  other  hand,  I  know  of  several  men 
who,  as  speakers,  cannot  produce  even  the  lifting 
of  the  eyebrow,  and  yet  are  able  to  write  matter  so 
bright  and  so  witty  that  even  the  misanthrope 
cannot  refrain  from  smiling. 

The  writing  of  humor  is  an  art  by  itself.  Very 
few  possess  the  ability. 

Financially  speaking,  there  is  little  or  nothing 
for  the  ordinary  writer  of  funny  stuff,  and  much 
money  for  the  exceptional  producer  of  it. 

I  would  suggest  that  the  humorous  writer  com- 
municate both  with  the  syndicates  and  with  the 
book  publishers;  and,  further,  that  he  attempt  to 
establish  a  humorous  column  in  a  newspaper. 

Most  of  our  humor  writers  began  on  newspa- 


42       THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

pers,  and  they  first  attracted  attention  as  para- 
graphers.  With  this  training,  they  became  full- 
fledged  humorists. 

Many  writers  can  construct  one  or  a  few  humor- 
ous paragraphs,  but  to  continue  to  do  so,  or  to 
carry  humor  through  several  hundred  pages,  is 
another  proposition. 

Half  of  the  so-called  humorous  books,  articles, 
and  stories  have  failed,  not  because  they  did  not 
begin  in  a  witty  way,  but  because  their  humor  was 
not  sustained,  and  because  it  was  not  properly  set 
to  real  life,  although  it  exaggerated  persons  and 
conditions. 

Humor,  psychologically  speaking,  is  an  attack, 
the  speaker  or  writer  of  it  hurling  his  spoken  or 
written  words  at  his  hearer  or  reader.  If  what 
he  says  or  writes  is  pleasant  to  receive,  and  cre- 
ates an  involuntary  laugh  or  smile,  then  it  is 
humorous  and  he  is  producing  acceptable  humor. 
If  the  attack  is  merely  sarcasm,  and  wounds  the 
one  at  whom  it  is  aimed,  it  may  be  humorous  to 
the  unhit  fellow,  but  it  does  not  please,  its  imme- 
diate audience. 


HUMOROUS  WRITING  43 

Acceptable  humor,  then,  is  that  which  pleases 
to  the  extent  of  amusing.  It  may  be  pointed  and 
sharp,  but  it  should,  like  the  boomerang,  wonder- 
fully and  gracefully  gyrate  through  the  air,  to 
fall  at  last,  with  spent  energy,  at  the  feet  of  him 
who  hurled  it.  Further,  real  humor  is  not  dis- 
torted fact,  but  rather  fact  not  set  in  its  regular 
setting.  Its  exaggeration,  however  great  it  may 
be,  is  the  picture  of  truth,  set,  may  I  say,  in  a 
wabbly  frame  or  one  which  is  not  symmetrical  or 
straight. 

Humor  consists  of  taking  things  from  the  nat- 
ural world,  and  of  playing  them  upon  a  specially 
created,  and  somewhat  unnatural,  stage;  but  the 
natural  individuality  or  personality  of  each  char- 
acter must  be  preserved,  although  some  or  all 
features  may  be  bent,  curved,  or  exaggerated. 

Even  an  attempt  to  present  the  impossible  may 
be  humorous,  if  the  exaggeration  is  carried  suffi- 
ciently far  to  be  transparent  to  the  reader;  but 
this  extravaganza  is  not  generally  acceptable. 

The  reader,  as  he  runs,  prefers  that  the  hu- 
morous sketch  present  the  real  things  of  life,  with 


44       THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

unusual  settings,  and  that  they  be  placed  in  lights 
which  illumine  them  and  give  them  excuse  for  be- 
ing not  impossible,  but  unusual. 

Do  not  try  to  be  funny,  if  you  are  not  naturally 
humorous. 

Bad  narrative  or  argument  is  bad  enough,  but 
bad  humor  is  an  abomination. 


CHAPTER  IX 
Special  Stobies  ob  Abticles 

UNDER  this  heading  I  will  discuss  stories  with 
their  action  on  shipboard,  on  the  railroad,  or 
under  any  other  conditions  which  do  not  appear  in 
the  everyday  life  of  the  average  man. 

Many  a  writer  has  produced  an  unacceptable 
story,  because  he  has  laid  the  plot  upon  the  rail- 
road though  he  knew  nothing  about  transporta- 
tion. The  author  on  the  western  prairie,  who 
has  never  seen  a  vessel  larger  than  a  canoe  or  flat- 
boat,  had  better  not  place  his  characters  upon 
shipboard,  until  he  has  experienced  water  travel. 

Do  not  allow  your  leading  character,  or  any 
other  prominent  one,  to  bring  his  business,  trade, 
or  profession  into  the  story  more  than  inciden- 
tally, unless  you  are  familiar  with  it. 

If  you  are  ignorant  of  art,  do  not  attempt  to 
make  your  hero  into  an  artist.  If  you  do  not 
46 


46      THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

know  something  of  journalism,  keep  newspaper 
men  out  of  your  story.  If  you  have  no  knowl- 
edge of  law,  do  not  try  to  describe  a  court  scene, 
except  incidentally.  If  your  leading  character  is 
a  physician,  keep  away  from  the  practice  of  his 
profession,  and  handle  him,  not  as  a  doctor,  but 
as  a  man.  You  cannot  describe  anything,  or  any 
person,  with  whom  you  are  unfamiliar. 

If,  however,  you  find  it  necessary  to  place  in 
your  story  a  specialist,  and  cannot  avoid  describ- 
ing the  sensations  of  that  profession,  get  into 
close  contact  with  one  or  more  men  representing 
it,  and  attempt  to  get  their  view-points;  then, 
after  your  story  is  finished,  ask  them  to  criticise 
that  part  of  it  which  pertains  to  the  action  of  their 
vocation. 

It  is  not  necessary  for  you  to  be  an  expert 
along  any  special  line,  but  unless  you  are  famil- 
iar with  it,  you  cannot  properly  describe  it,  or 
realistically  present  a  character  in  the  environ- 
ment of  his  trade  or  under  other  conditions  pe- 
culiar to  his  calling  or  tastes. 


CHAPTER  X 
Thjs  Wbitino  of  Poetby 

IF  it  is  difficult,  if  not  impossible,  to  formulate 
general  rules  or  directions  which  may  be  fol- 
lowed for  the  composition  of  the  novel  or  other 
work  of  fiction,  it  may  be  said  that  it  is  "  more 
than  impossible  "  to  present  even  the  semblance  of 
directions  for  the  making  of  poetry,  other  than 
essays  on  the  diction  and  forms  of  verse,  which 
may  be  found  in  several  textbooks,  including  rhet- 
orics. 

It  is  not  the  province  of  this  book  to  produce 
printed  instruments  for  the  weighing  or  measur- 
ing of  feet,  meter,  or  rhyme,  but  rather  to  make 
a  few  suggestions,  which  must  not  be  considered 
directions,  and  to  comment  upon  the  market  or 
commercial  value  of  that  ever-growing  and  over- 
spreading plant,  poetry, —  or,  more  popularly 
speaking,    verse, —  among    whose    luxuriant    and 

47 


48       THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

often  seemingly  worthless  foliage  there  occasion- 
ally bloom  the  fairest  flowers  of  literature. 

Judging  from  the  present  crop  of  verse  or 
rhyme,  little  of  which  shows  poetical  tempera- 
ment on  the  part  of  its  writers,  versification  is 
growing  more  rapidly  than  the  most  prolific  weed 
in  the  most  fertile  soil,  and  is  far  more  difficult  to 
subdue.  Aptitude  for  versifying  is  very  common, 
the  jingle  of  words  pleasing,  and  the  sport  of 
turning  a  clever  phrase  absorbing.  Besides  these 
temptations,  every  man  and  woman  is  at  heart  a 
potential  poet, —  the  deep  experiences  of  life 
move  to  stately  measures,  and  the  ideal  of  thought 
seeks  to  clothe  itself  in  the  ideal  of  expression. 
For  these  reasons,  the  annual  output  of  verse, 
per  capita,  is  much  greater  than  the  annual  out- 
put of  prose.  Besides,  verse  may  be  brief,  and  a 
transient  inspiration  may  be  given  short  shrift  be- 
fore the  mood  changes. 

The  facility  shown  by  the  average  producer  of 
verse  is  purely  mechanical,  and  quite  on  a  level 
with  the  common  abilit}^  to  dance  or  sing.  Just 
as  there  is  an  infinite  chasm  between  mediocrity 
and  genius  in  singing  and  in  dancing,  so  there  is 


THE  WRITING  OF  POETRY  49 

a  like  chasm  in  poetry.  That  the  average  per- 
son has  some  facility  speaks  well  for  the  race ;  it  is 
of  no  moment  in  the  consideration  of  the  art. 

The  class  of  versifiers  who  send  their  lines  to 
the  newspapers  and  magazines  is  large  for  several 
reasons:  First,  poetic  fame  is  the  highest  which 
the  literary  art  has  to  offer;  therefore,  it  has 
many  aspirants.  Conscious  aspiration  for  it,  as 
a  thing  in  itself,  is  the  most  certain  sign  that  one 
is  not  favored  with  true  inspiration.  All  of  this 
class  are  prolific,  and  keep  manuscript  readers 
busy,  but  they  do  not  "  drug  the  market "  as  they 
never  get  into  the  market.  The  only  circulation 
which  their  work  receives  is  privately  among  their 
friends,  in  manuscript  or  cheaply  printed  form, 
or  in  the  columns  of  the  local  newspaper,  which 
prints  it  out  of  compliment  to  them  and  without 
thought  of  paying  for  it. 

Secondly,  the  tendency  of  the  average  person, 
whose  words  are  weightier  than  his  thoughts,  is  to 
rattle  them  about  in  his  mind  like  loose  change 
in  his  pocket,  —  and  with  equal  profit. 

Thirdly,  many  attempt  to  write  verse  because 
of  the  real  and  worthy  vein  of  sentiment  in  every 


50       THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

human  heart,  which  makes  impassioned  expres- 
sion,—  and  that  is  what  poetry  is  essentially, — 
natural  to  every  one  when  deeply  stirred.  The 
lover  is  always,  at  moments,  a  poet,  though  he  be 
tongue-tied.  He  who  is  melancholy  for  any 
reason,  serious  or  trivial,  drinks  for  the  moment 
of  the  fountains  which  ever  feed  the  souls  of  the 
poet  and  philosopher. 

Therefore,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  there 
is  much  verse  in  the  world.  That  much  of  it  is 
commercially  valueless  is  a  foregone  conclusion. 

The  people  who  write  verse  with  serious  purpose 
and  notable  result  are  of  two  classes,  and  it  is  with 
their  product  that  the  critic  has  to  deal,  and  deal 
honestly.  If  he  flinches  from  his  task,  or  ma,kes 
a  mistake,  the  results  are  dire  and  his  shame  is 
great. 

The  first  class  is  composed  of  the  writers  whose 
special  forte  is  some  field  other  than  poetry,  but 
who  have  talent  enough,  and  earnestness  enough, 
occasionally  to  turn  out  a  really  excellent  poem. 
They  are  the  real  competitors  of  the  poet,  both  in 
the  market  and  in  the  hall  of  fame.  But  if  their 
talent  in  another  direction  is  ever  acknowledged, 


THE  WRITING  OF  POETRY  51 

or  if  their  inclination  is  toward  some  other  form 
of  expression,  their  competition  is  only  transient, 
and  posterity  never  mistakes  them  for  real  poets. 

The  credentials  of  the  real  poet  are  always  pat- 
ent to  those  who  know  him  personally.  In  his 
early  writings  it  may  be  very  difficult  to  distin- 
guish him  from  other  tainted  litterateurs. 
Therein  lies  his  danger,  and  the  all  too  frequent 
tragedies  in  the  lives  of  the  poets.  His  work  is 
almost  sure  to  be  unconventional  and  startling; 
therefore,  it  meets  the  condemnation  of  the  criti- 
cal manuscript  reader  who  has  fed  on  conventions 
until  they  are  bred  in  the  bone. 

The  true  poet  cannot  have  recourse  to  prose, 
because  what  he  writes  is  poetry  whatever  the 
form  it  takes.  There  may  be  no  known  rhyme  or 
meter  in  his  work;  it  may  be  as  elemental  in  form 
as  the  singing  of  the  waters  and  the  pulsations  of 
the  winds;  but  it  is  not  prose,  either  in  its  spirit 
or  its  diction,  and  will  not  be  whipped  into  regu- 
lar lines. 

While  the  real  poet  is  gathering  food  for  song 
out  of  life's  experiences,  and  learning  the  cones  of 
his  soul,  his  genius  looks  like  mediocrity  or  tal- 


52      THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

ent,  and  he  has  no  answer  to  his  critics  except  the 
call  of  his  future,  which  they  cannot  hear.  So  he 
is  like  to  drown  in  the  vast  flood  of  verse  which 
the  publishers  receive,  and  if  he  escapes  that  fate, 
he  is  apt  to  be  long  left  stranded  upon  the  rocks 
while  the  talented  writers  who  are  not  poets  by 
birth  are  taken  off.  If,  these  perils  passed,  his 
persistent  and  skillful  knocking  at  the  door  of 
literary  opportunity  lets  him  in,  his  fare  is  poor 
and  scanty,  because  there  are  so  many  poetasters 
who  must  be  fed  first.  He  does,  however,  even- 
tually win  recognition,  and  then,  long  after  fame, 
a  livelihood. 

Strange  to  say,  the  battle  for  poetic  recogni- 
tion is  repeated  in  every  generation,  as  each  poet 
has  to  conquer  singlehanded  a  world  of  his  own, 
and  the  appreciation  of  the  actual  commercial  and 
artistic  value  of  his  work  has  to  wait  until  he  has 
educated  his  public  into  an  understanding  of  the 
new  knowledge  he  has  brought  them. 

If  anybody  must  be  born  for  his  work,  the  real 
poet  must  be  born  into  it.  Rhymesters  are  incuba- 
tor-reared. Probably  every  writer,  male  or  fe- 
male, and  of  every  condition,  including  servitude, 


THE  WRITING  OF  POETRY  53 

has  sometime  in  his  career  thrown  out  rhymes 
more  or  less  connected  with  rhythm,  many  of  them 
creating  the  suspicion  that  the  writer  has  swal- 
lowed a  spelling  book,  or  attempted  to  eat  a  dic- 
tionary, with  consequent  indigestion. 

Every  one  of  the  leading  magazines  receives 
monthly  from  a  hundred  to  a  thousand  alleged 
poetical  productions,  some  of  the  verses  of  which 
actually  rhyme;  and  the  average  newspaper,  in- 
cluding the  country  weekly,  does  not  need  to  pur- 
chase waste  paper  to  start  the  fire  with,  if  it  uses 
for  kindlings  the  rejected  manuscripts  of  verses. 

Many  a  would-be  poet,  who  cannot  write  poetry, 
ignores  the  prose  he  might  produce,  and  attempts 
to  set  up  in  verse  thoughts  which  have  not  strength 
enough  to  run  away. 

The  alleged  poets  of  America  write,  or  other- 
wise produce,  more  than  a  million  verses  a  year, 
and  seventy-five  per  cent  of  them  desecrate  the 
paper  upon  which  they  are  written.  Twenty  per 
cent  of  them  are  not  injurious,  and  four  per  cent 
of  them  offer  excuse  for  publication.  One  per 
cent  of  them  redeem  the  whole. 

If  the  alleged  poets  could  hear  the  comments 


54      THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

made  upon  their  rhymes  by  editors  and  other 
judges  of  poetry,  many  of  them  would  not  at- 
tempt to  express  themselves  in  verse. 

Real  poetry,  —  the  kind  that  lives,  —  contains 
the  innermost  thought  of  the  master  mind,  and 
even  the  best  of  prose  fails  to  reveal  the  emotions  of 
the  heart,  and  the  convictions  of  the  thoughtful 
brain,  as  well  as  they  may  be  portrayed  in  verse. 

Genuine  poetry  has  the  highest  literary  value, 
and  is  commercially  remunerative.  The  rhymes 
and  verses,  which  appear  in  the  newspapers  and 
in  most  of  the  magazines,  are  insufficient  unto  the 
day  thereof,  and  are  seldom  remembered,  and,  if 
paid  for,  receive  sums  hardly  worth  the  taking. 
True,  some  of  the  better  class  of  magazines  pay 
as  high  as  fifty  dollars,  or  even  five  hundred  dol- 
lars, for  a  poem,  but  comparatively  few  poets 
realize  more  than  five  to  ten  dollars  per  piece  for 
their  labors. 

Newspapers  seldom,  if  ever,  pay  for  a  rhjnne  or 
verse,  unless  it  be  of  humorous  character,  or  is 
particularly  seasonable ;  and  then  the  sum  realized 
hy  the  writer  is  not  likely  to  exceed  five  or  ten 
dollars. 


THE  WRITING  OF  POETRY  56 

The  best  poetry  is  published  in  book  form,  and 
all,  or  some,  of  the  verses  may  have  appeared  in 
the  magazines. 

There  are,  in  the  United  States  to-day,  prob- 
ably not  exceeding  twenty-five  who  receive  a 
reasonable  income  from  their  poetry,  and  I  do  not 
recall  the  names  of  more  than  half  a  dozen  who 
make  a  living  at  it. 

If  you  have  an  exceedingly  vivid,  and  yet  con- 
trolled, imagination,  and  are  able  profitably  to 
search  the  very  depth  of  your  mind,  and  if  your 
mind  be  of  unusual  depth,  and  you  are  poetically 
inclined,  probably  you  can  produce  poetry  which 
may  be  sold  and  read.  Do  not  imagine  for  one 
moment,  however,  that  because  you  are  sentimen- 
tal, you  are  a  poet.  More  than  mere  sentimen- 
tality is  necessary  for  the  production  of  real 
poetry. 

The  superabundance  of  rhymes  and  verses  upon 
the  market  has  depreciated  the  poetry  price,  and 
the  chances  are  that  few  receive  more  than  small 
sums,  even  for  verses  which  are  worthy  of  publica- 
tion. Comparatively  few  people  can  write  real 
poetry. 


56      THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

It  is  difficult,  even  with  a  vivid  imagination  and 
with  great  ability,  to  place  the  innermost  thoughts 
of  the  soul  upon  paper.  Thousands  of  writers 
have  poetical  minds.  They  can  produce  poetry 
in  prose,  but  not  poetry  in  rhyme.  Their  best 
thoughts,  their  highest  sentiments,  they  may 
find  difficult  to  place  upon  paper  under  the  handi- 
cap of  the  necessity  of  making  one  line  rhyme 
with  another.  These  writers  can  best  express 
themselves  in  what  is  called  poetic  prose,  for  which 
there  is  an  open  market. 

Commercially  speaking,  the  field  of  poetry  is 
greatly  limited.  Probably  not  exceeding  one 
dozen  magazines  will  pay  more  than  a  few  dol- 
lars for  a  poem  of  merit,  and  book  publishers  re- 
fuse, as  a  rule,  to  consider  the  publication  of  a 
book  of  poems,  unless  the  writer  is  one  of  a  dozen, 
with  a  reputation  sufficient  to  carry  the  book. 

The  only  wise  rule  to  follow  is  that  he  who  can 
write  prose  should  not  attempt  poetry.  He  may 
find  that,  among  his  prose,  he  has  inadvertently 
written  a  few  poems.  If  so,  well,  as  his  prose  is 
all  the  richer  for  so  great  a  degree  of  talent.  But 
if,  while  modestly  attempting  prose,  he  finds,  and 


THE  WRITING  OF  POETRY  67 

the  world  also  finds,  that  he  has  written  nothing 
but  poetry,  then  his  fate  is  inevitable, —  he  must 
accept  a  poet's  fame,  though  with  it  come  onlj  a 
meager  livelihood 


CHAPTER  XI 
Play  Writing 

PLAY  writing,  although  it  may  be  considered 
in  a  literary  class  preeminently  its  own,  re- 
quires the  same  amount  of  imagination,  original- 
ity, and  ability,  which  is  necessary  for  the  con- 
struction of  a  work  of  fiction. 

Unless  one  is  familiar  with  the  stage,  both  from 
the  back  of  it,  and  from  the  view-point  of  the  au- 
ditorium, it  is  probable  that  he  cannot  produce  a 
profitable  or  acceptable  play. 

The  writer  of  book  or  magazine  fiction  may  ex- 
plain its  characters  and  situations  in  the  text,  and 
is  not  wholly  dependent  upon  dialogue  or  conversa- 
tion. 

In  the  play,  the  characters,  by  action  and  prin- 
cipally by  spoken  words,  carry  the  burden  of  the 
plot;  in  fact,  the  success  of  the  play  is  as  de- 
pendent upon  what  is  said  as  upon  the  plot  itself. 

A  play,  then,  is  virtually  a  story  worked  out 
58 


PLAY  WRITING  59 

largely  in  conversation,  with  the  assistance  of 
scenery  and  situations.  The  writer  of  it,  there- 
fore, must  explain  his  situations,  and  unravel  his 
plot,  very  largely  by  the  words  he  places  in  the 
mouths  of  his  actors.  If,  for  example,  he  desires 
to  bring  out  the  characteristics  or  local  color  of  a 
town,  he  must  do  so  from  spoken  words,  which  in 
themselves  must  explain  the  situation  and  be  suf- 
ficient for  the  audience  to  obtain  by  easy  inference 
an  idea  of  what  is  taking  place.  Of  course,  the 
costumes  worn  and  the  scenery  will  assist,  but 
they  are  subordinate  to  the  dialogue  itself. 

The  playwright  may,  at  times,  allow  the  actors 
to  think  aloud,  to  speak  what  are  technically  known 
as  "  asides,"  but  soliloquy  must  be  used  very  spar- 
ingly in  the  modem  drama,  for  the  audience  de- 
mands active  action,  not  passive  action. 

It  is  necessary,  then,  for  the  playwright  to  pre- 
sent, by  spoken  words,  and  with  the  assistance  of 
costume,  scenery,  and  situations,  the  scheme  of  his 
play, —  something  which  cannot  be  done  unless 
one  is  thoroughly  familiar  with  stage  conditions. 

The  writer  of  a  book,  or  of  a  story,  can  present 
his  scheme  with  the  introduction  of  written  expla- 


60       THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

nations,  and  can  move  his  characters  and  scenes 
consistently  from  one  place  to  another  by  the  in- 
troduction of  a  few  words. 

On  the  stage,  conditions  are  diametrically  oppo- 
site. Explanations,  except  by  conversation,  are 
practically  impossible,  and  lapses  are  not  per- 
mitted without  the  dropping  of  the  curtain. 

If  the  leading  character  in  a  book,  for  example, 
desires  to  change  his  clothes,  he  can  do  so  almost 
instantaneously ;  but  on  the  stage  he  must  be  given 
sufficient  time;  and,  if  this  change  is  made  while 
the  curtain  is  up,  the  author  must  keep  the  play 
moving  and  interesting  to  the  audience  until  the 
leading  man  returns. 

The  playwright  must  provide  for  all  emergen- 
cies, and  not  allow  the  action  to  be  discontinued 
for  even  a  moment,  except  when  the  curtain  is 
down;  and  he  is  required  to  so  arrange  his  con- 
versation and  situations  that  the  several  charac- 
ters will  appear  and  reappear  consistently. 

Then,  it  is  by  no  means  easy,  in  the  limited  num- 
ber of  words  which  can  be  spoken  during  the  acting 
of  the  play,  to  present  situations,  or  to  explain 
them;  and  it  is  far  more  difficult  to  do  this  on  the 


PLAY  WRITING  61 

stage  than  it  is  to  accomplish  the  same  thing  in  a 
book. 

A  book-writing  license  allows  the  author  to 
carry  a  long  conversation,  plentifully  interspersed 
with  explanation.  On  the  stage  long  speeches  are 
seldom  permissible,  and  there  is  neither  time  nor 
place  for  inactive  explanations.  The  action  must 
be  rapid,  continuous,  and  self-explanatory.  The 
playwright  must  not  only  produce  dialogue  or 
speaking  parts,  but  he  must  create  situations  which 
can  be  so  handled  by  the  actors  that  they  will  be 
intelligible  to  the  audience.  He  cannot  leave  much 
to  the  imagination.  He  must  present  his  story 
so  that  they  can  grasp  it,  and  follow  it  without 
perceptible  effort. 

Of  course,  the  playwright  may  not  expose  the 
finish  of  the  plot  until  the  last  act,  but  interest 
must  be  sustained  even  though  the  audience  is 
kept  guessing  at  the  result. 

As  many  of  the  audience  arrive  late,  and  as 
there  seems  to  be  no  way  in  sight  to  remedy  this 
evil,  which  shows  a  general  lack  of  culture  and 
breeding,  the  playwright  is  often  obliged  to  open 
his  play  with  insignificant  words,  spoken  by  minor 


62      THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

characters,  and  to  postpone  the  beginning  of  the 
unraveling  of  his  plot  until  the  middle  of  the  first 
act.  This  same  condition  prevails  at  the  close  of 
the  play,  when  half  of  the  audience  is  getting  ready 
to  leave.  Consequently,  the  great  climax  should 
come  a  few  minutes  before  the  dropping  of  the 
final  curtain. 

Some  playwrights  very  ingeniously  construct 
their  plays,  so  that  the  audience  does  not  realize 
that  one  is  about  to  close  until  it  comes  to  an  end 
with  a  dramatic  snap. 

Love  and  sentiment  seem  to  be  essential  to  the 
success  of  the  majority  of  modern  plays,  and  prac- 
tically all  profitable  ones  contain  several  love-mak- 
ing scenes. 

The  play  usually  has  three  leading  characters: 
first,  the  hero;  secondly,  the  heroine;  thirdly,  the 
villain. 

For  the  purpose  of  relaxing  the  intensity  of  the 
interest,  secondary  and  yet  prominent  characters 
are  introduced,  and  these  parts  are  sustained  by 
what  are  known  as  male  and  female  juveniles,  or 
young  people  who  are  in  love  with  each  other, 
and  whose  love-making  is  humorous  to  some  ex- 


PLAY  WRITING  68* 

tent.  There  are  usually  introduced  other  char- 
acters as  fillers:  a  servant  or  two,  a  tradesman,  a 
lawyer,  a  doctor,  one  or  two  mothers,  a  couple  of 
mothers-in-law,  factory  hands,  a  policeman,  a 
judge,  or  a  conservative  business  man. 

Successful  plays  have  been  written,  however, 
with  not  exceeding  four,  five,  or  six  persons  in  the 
cast,  but  the  majority  of  them  have  a  dozen  speak- 
ing parts,  and  occasionally  twice  that  number. 
Even  the  so-called  populace  is  introduced, —  men, 
women,  and  children  who  merely  walk  or  play,  with 
few  of  them  speaking  more  than  a  dozen  words. 

Besides  producing  the  conversational  part  of  the 
play,  and  creating  the  situations,  the  author  must 
suggest  the  clothes  to  be  worn,  and  mark  in  the 
entrances  and  exits. 

To  be  successful,  the  playwright  must  be  pro- 
ficient in  climaxing.  The  curtain  should  never 
fall  upon  a  flat  or  dull  line.  Something  snappy, 
witty,  or  of  climax  quality  should  close  every  scene 
and  act.  While  the  great  climax  comes  at  the 
end  or  close  to  the  end,  there  should  be  subor- 
dinate climaxes  occurring  with  each  change  of 
scene  or  dropping  of  the  curtain.     The  first  act 


64       THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

of  a  two-act  play  should  end  with  a  considerable 
climax,  and  there  should  be  a  strong  climax  at 
the  end  of  the  second  act  of  a  three-act  play,  and 
at  the  end  of  the  third  act  of  a  four-  or  five-act 
play. 

The  playwright  has  before  him  one  great  ob- 
stacle, which  it  is  hard  to  meet.  It  is  often  diffi- 
cult, if  not  impossible,  properly  to  balance  a  play 
to  the  satisfaction  of  the  leading  man  or  woman. 
Often  these  actors  demand  what  is  known  as  the 
front  of  the  stage,  and  most  of  the  speaking  parts, 
particularly  the  strong  ones.  Let  us  suppose,  for 
example,  that  one  of  the  minor  characters  intro- 
duced is  that  of  an  able  and  far-sighted  man  of 
unusual  judgment.  He  can  consistently  be  given 
strong  words  to  say,  and  large  opportunities. 
But  if  the  leading  actor  does  not  sustain  this  part, 
much  of  what  this  character  could  be  permitted  to 
speak  or  act  must  be  eliminated,  for  if  this  is  not 
done,  the  words  and  opportunities  of  the  leading 
man  will  be  shadowed. 

The  playwright,  then,  is  not  only  obliged  to 
produce  an  acceptable  play  from  the  view-point  of 
the  audience,  but  he  must,  in  many  cases,  write  his 


PLAY  WRITING  66 

words,  and  arrange  his  situations,  to  the  satis- 
faction of  the  leading  actors. 

Probably  half  of  the  successful  plays  are  writ- 
ten especially  for  some  one  actor  or  actress,  who 
demands  continuous  prominence,  even  to  the  sacri- 
fice of  the  others  in  the  cast. 

It  is  usually  essential,  therefore,  for  the  play- 
wright to  keep  the  leading  actor  and  actress  con- 
tinually in  the  lime-light,  and  in  the  front  of  the 
stage,  even  if  he  has  seriously  to  blanket  other 
lights  which  could  consistently  shine. 

The  rapid  growth  of  the  stock  company  is  de- 
cidedly to  the  playwright's  advantage;  for  the 
stock  company,  while  it  has  its  leading  men  and 
women,  is  not  likely  to  employ  stars  of  more  than 
ordinary  magnitude. 

The  manager  of  the  stock  company  does  not  al- 
ways give  his  leading  men  and  women  the  strong- 
est parts.  Therefore,  a  play  which  might  not 
suit  a  brilliant  star,  will  be  acceptable  to  the  stock 
company. 

Unfortunately,  comparatively  few  new  plays 
are  brought  out  by  stock  companies,  at  the  pres- 
ent time;  but  with  the  growth  of  these  organiza- 


66      THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

tions,  the  day  is  rapidly  approaching  when  stock 
company  managers  will  be  able  to  own  plays  of  a 
quality  equal  to  that  of  those  which  they  now 
lease. 

The  most  successful  plays,  as  they  run,  end 
happily.  The  hero  and  heroine  get  married  or 
their  engagement  is  announced.  The  villain,  who 
has  interfered,  receives  his  deserts.  Everything  is 
cleaned  up,  with  virtue  winning.  The  play  termi- 
nates to  the  satisfaction  of  the  audience.  Occa- 
sionally plays  have  succeeded  with  sad  endings, 
but,  as  a  rule,  it  is  better  to  have  them  close  to  the 
pleasure  of  the  audience. 

May  I  not  diverge  for  a  while,  and  attempt  to 
describe  the  several  classes  of  plays? 

What  is  known  as  the  one-act  play,  or  curtain- 
raiser,  is  usually  presented  at  a  vaudeville  house. 
It  seldom  has  more  than  three  or  four  characters, 
often  only  two.  A  bell-boy  or  other  stage  attache 
may  be  employed  as  a  walking  part.  The  action 
is  extremely  rapid,  the  dialogue  brilliant  (or  is 
supposed  to  be),  and  more  or  less  witty,  unless  the 
play  is  tragic;  but  comparatively  few  of  the  latter 
class  are  on  the  boards. 


PLAY  WRITING  67 

Much  license  is  given  to  these  plays,  for  the 
average  audience  will  accept  even  the  grossest  ex- 
aggerations. They  contain  but  a  few  thousand 
words,  and  occupy  a  time  of  not  exceeding  thirty 
minutes,  many  of  them  being  written  into  as  short 
a  period  as  twenty  minutes.  The  play  must  start 
with  a  rush  and  end  in  a  hurry;  and  as  there  is 
little  opportunity  for  explanation,  the  words  and 
situations  must  be  vividly  self-explanatory. 

The  action  of  practicaUy  all  of  these  one-act 
plays  is  located  in  one  spot,  and  usually  in  one 
room,  or  in  a  garden,  grove,  or  on  shipboard. 

The  so-called  monologue  can  hardly  be  consid- 
ered a  play.  A  monologue  consists  of  a  continu- 
ous train  of  remarks  by  one  person,  who  may  be 
seated  in  a  parlor,  or  standing  on  the  street ;  and 
it  is  not  required  that  the  train  of  words  remain 
on  the  track.  It  may  be  switched  on  to  sidetracks, 
and  run  wild.  Usually  the  actor  of  it  illustrates 
what  are  supposed  to  be  personal  experiences. 
Practically  all  successful  monologues  are  of  a  hu- 
morous nature,  and  most  of  them  describe  impos- 
sible situations,  but  with  a  strain  of  truth  run- 
ning through  them. 


6S      THE  ART  OF  STOHY  WRITING 

Usually  the  vaudeville  programme  contains  what 
is  known  as  a  talking  or  acting  team ;  two  men,  two 
women,  or  a  man  and  a  woman,  generally  gro- 
tesquely dressed,  and  who  may  or  may  not  add 
dancing  to  their  parts.  They  carry  on  a  dialogue, 
always  humorous  (or  of  an  alleged  humor). 
There  is  no  plot  involved. 

The  foregoing  plays,  if  I  may  call  them  such, 
are  not  technically  known  as  "  legitimate."  "  Le- 
gitimate "  is  hardly  the  word,  but  I  use  it  because 
it  is  a  stage  term. 

So-called  legitimate  plays  are  of  several  kinds: 
first,  the  farcical  comedy,  which  is  nonsensical  from 
start  to  finish,  has  little  or  no  real  plot,  and  is 
usually  without  consistency.  It  is,  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  a  form  of  continuous  vaudeville,  with  just 
enough  plot  for  excuse  to  hold  it  together.  It  is 
supposed  to  be  humorous  throughout,  and  every 
spoken  word  is  intended  to  represent  wit  or  sar- 
casm. If  there  are  any  sober  characters,  they  are 
used  as  a  background  for  frivolity. 

Many  of  these  plays  are  written  especially  for 
one  actor  or  actress,  so  as  to  bring  out  their  par- 
ticular mannerisms  and  exceptional  capabilities. 


PLAY  WRITING  69 

These  farcial  comedies  are  usually  produced  with 
a  large  number  of  supernumeraries, —  men  and 
women  who  dance  and  perform  other  antics,  and 
who  are  dressed  in  spectacular  costumes. 

The  extravaganza  is  not  far  removed  in  quality, 
or  in  substance,  from  the  farcial  comedy,  except 
that  it  is  more  extreme,  is  more  elaborately  staged, 
and  is  allowed  more  license.  Its  spoken  lines  may 
rhyme.  It  is  likely  to  present  hardly  the  sem- 
blance of  a  plot.  The  action  runs  riot,  and  the 
actors  run  amuck.  Some  singing  is  introduced, 
but  the  success  of  the  thing  (I  label  it  "  thing  " 
because  it  can  hardly  be  called  a  play),  is  due  al- 
most entirely  to  the  eccentric  acting  of  the  lead- 
ing characters,  to  the  costuming,  and  to  an  expo- 
sure of  anatomy,  principally  of  the  hosiery  end  of 
women. 

Of  course,  the  farcical  comedy  and  extravaganza 
have  to  have  playwrights,  who  must  be  proficient 
in  erratic  originality,  and  be  able  to  produce  sit- 
uations rather  than  commendable  dialogue. 

The  musical  comedy  and  comic  opera  are  some- 
what synonymous.  Most  of  the  spoken  words  are 
presenifed  in  song,  usually  with  considerable  spec- 


70       THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

tacular  effects,  including  the  ballet.  Some  of  them 
are  genuine  works  of  the  highest  art,  with  music 
which  will  not  offend  the  ear  of  the  masters  of 
music. 

The  Gilbert  and  Sullivan  operas  represent  a  dis- 
tinct class  of  stage  production,  and  they  have  con- 
tributed enormously  to  the  pleasure  of  the  peoplcc 
There  are  others  as  good,  or  nearly  so;  but  the 
majority  of  the  so-called  musical  comedies,  or 
comic  operas,  are  merely  vaudeville  shows,  strung 
out,  and  elaborated  with  music  which  should  out- 
rage the  taste  of  an  intelligent  audience;  yet  they 
succeed,  because  they  are  eye-pleasing,  and  be- 
cause they  have  a  swing  and  a  go  which  gratifies 
the  public  taste.  The  excuse  for  their  existence 
may  be  in  the  remark  of  the  great  composer  who 
said  that  all  music  is  music. 

The  regular  comedy  is  a  play  of  two,  three, 
four,  or  five  acts,  with  as  many  or  more  scenes, 
and  which  is  half-serious  and  half-light,  with  in- 
terjections of  wit  and  humor.  It  is  not  intended 
to  be  heavy.  The  spoken  words  are  conversation- 
ally brilliant  and  up-to-date,  and  the  situations 
change  rapidly.     There  is  a  distinct  plot,  which  is 


PLAY  WRITING  71 

worked  out  to  a  climax.  The  villain  is  introduced, 
and  the  hero  gets  the  better  of  him  frequently, — 
at  any  rate,  before  the  play  closes.  Dancing  and 
spectacular  scenes  are  not  introduced,  except  occa- 
sionally, and  then  in  a  subordinate  way. 

The  average  comedy  has  at  least  six  speaking 
parts,  and  sometimes  double  that  number;  and 
many  of  them  are  the  work  of  master  playwrights. 
They  are,  commercially  speaking,  the  most  suc- 
cessful plays. 

The  plot  is  not  particularly  intense,  but  the 
action  and  situations  are,  at  least,  apparently 
natural. 

The  villain,  if  there  be  one,  sustains  the  second, 
third,  or  fourth  part  in  relative  importance,  al- 
though he  sometimes  ranks  with  the  leading  man. 

Many  of  these  comedies  are  society  plays,  and 
quite  a  number  of  them  present  country  and  farm- 
life  conditions. 

What  is  known  as  the  melodrama  is  a  play  of 
great  intensity,  with  harrowing  situations,  several 
hair-breadth  escapes,  and  a  strong  plot.  The  hero 
and  heroine  invariably  meet  with  disaster,  and  this 
condition   prevails    until    the    close    of    the    play. 


72       THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

There  are  introduced  one  or  more  villains  of  the 
deepest  dye,  whose  business  it  is  to  ruin  the  hero, 
or  heroine,  or  both  of  them.  Virtue  is  placed  upon 
a  pedestal  and  surrounded  with  the  white  clouds  of 
purity;  the  villain  is  in  evening  dress,  and,  for  a 
while,  remains  unscorched  by  the  fire  of  retribu- 
tion ;  but  the  fire  is  there,  although  it  is  for  stage 
purposes  kept  from  premature  bursting. 

Firearms  play  important  parts.  The  hero  or 
the  heroine  is  probably  close  to  death  or  capture 
once  or  several  times  during  the  play.  The  vil- 
lain is  usually  master  of  the  situation  until  the  last 
act,  and  often  until  the  very  close  of  the  play, 
when  he  commits  suicide,  or  meets  with  a  violent 
death,  or  is  arrested,  and  the  curtain  goes  down 
with  the  hero  and  heroine  clasped  in  each  other's 
arms,  the  mother-in-law  reconciled,  and  the  vil- 
lain either  dead,  dying,  or  handcuffed  to  an  officer 
who  is  about  to  incarcerate  him. 

Usually  this  play  has  a  streak  of  comedy  run- 
ning through  it,  with  one  or  more  characters  enliv- 
ening the  scenes  and  introducing  more  or  less  fun ; 
but  as  a  whole  it  is  intense. 

It  is  said  that  one  writer  of  this  class  of  plays 


PLAY  WRITING  7S 

has  accumulated  more  than  a  million  dollars,  al- 
though most  of  his  productions  were  presented  at 
second-class  theaters  and  in  the  small  country 
towns.  His  leading  characters  always  represent 
abject  poverty,  and  have  to  struggle  to  keep  soul 
and  body  from  separation.  The  leading  actor  sus- 
tains, or,  rather,  assumes,  the  part  of  a  farmer,  a 
laborer,  or  sailor,  or  that  of  an  underpaid  under- 
clerk.  The  leading  actress  portrays,  or  attempts 
to,  the  character  of  a  maid,  a  salesgirl,  or  poor 
seamstress,  who  is  attractive  physically  if  not  men- 
tally. The  hero  is  a  modem  Adonis,  but  never 
dressed  like  one;  at  any  rate  not  until  the  last 
scene  of  the  last  act. 

The  villain  is  always  bold,  bad,  and  terrible,  and 
wants  to  marry  the  heroine.  In  order  to  get  rid 
of  the  hero,  who  is  virtue  personified,  he  plots  his 
ruin  or  death.  He  may  throw  him  overboard  or 
attempt  to  have  him  cut  up  with  a  buzz-saw.  He 
may  plan  a  defalcation,  which  involves  the  hero. 
He  may  have  him  discharged  and  bring  him  to  the 
verge  of  starvation.  He  may  imprison  the  girl, 
or  hold  her  in  some  den,  her  promise  to  marry  him 
being  her  key  to  freedom.     Although  the  hero  may 


74       THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

occasionally  thwart  him,  the  villain  continues  to  be 
the  winner  until  the  final  curtain  is  about  to  de- 
scend. 

The  play  always  works  out  to  the  complete  sat- 
isfaction of  the  hero  and  heroine,  and  to  the  au- 
dience. With  one  crash,  the  villain  is  suppressed 
and  virtue  is  surrounded  with  rainbows.  The 
stormy  clouds,  no  matter  how  black,  are  sun-kissed 
at  the  close. 

Habitual  attendants  of  theaters  will  remember 
the  old  lines  spoken  by  the  poor  mother,  who  rushes 
upon  the  stage  with  disheveled  hair  and  calico 
dress,  and  screams  at  the  top  of  her  voice,  "  My 
child,  my  child,  who  will  save  my  child?  "  The  vil- 
lain has  pursued,  and  may  grab  her  child;  then, 
with  a  burst  from  the  orchestra, —  the  drum  in 
tremendous  evidence, —  the  hero  rushes  upon  the 
stage,  and  with  one  blow  knocks  the  villain  to  the 
ground,  even  though  he  possesses  the  physique  of 
a  pugilist,  and  the  hero  has  the  face  and  frame  of 
a  consumptive. 

Exaggeration  to  the  limit  of  the  possible  is  per- 
missible. But  is  there  such  a  word  as  exaggera- 
tion in  the  dictionary  of  life.?     Often  we  discover 


PLAY  WRITING  75 

deeper  pits  and  more  terrible  anguish  in  life  than 
the  mind  of  man,  even  that  of  the  melodrama 
makery  can  conceive,  or  the  pen  can  place  upon 
paper. 

The  success  of  the  melodrama  is  largely  due  to 
the  fact  that  in  it  virtue  gets  its  reward,  and  gets 
it  quickly,  and  things  turn  out  as  they  should,  but 
do  not,  always,  in  the  action  of  reality. 

There  are,  however,  several  melodramas  upon 
the  boards  which  are  of  the  highest  grade,  and 
portray  the  tragic  side  of  real  life  consistently  and 
vividly. 

Tragedy  is  not  a  frequenter  of  the  modem  stage, 
with  the  exception  of  those  written  by  Shakes- 
peare and  by  other  great  masters.  It  is  likely  to 
be  founded  upon  some  historical  event,  and  its  char- 
acters may  represent  those  who  have  lived,  or  they 
may  be  created  by  the  playwright.  Battle  scenes 
are  often  reproduced,  and  kings,  queens,  and  other 
rulers  play  prominent  parts.  There  may  be  an 
arena  for  the  slaughter  of  the  innocent.  The  pop- 
ulists may  rise  against  the  government.  Little  or 
no  comedy  is  introduced,  and  only  an  occasional 
laugh  or  smile  is  aroused.     The  presentation  of 


76       THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

these  plajs  usually  requires  a  large  number  of  su- 
pernumeraries,—  soldiers,  sailors,  savages,  war- 
riors, and  the  inevitable  mob.  Probably  the  great- 
est play  ever  written,  other  than  those  of  Shakes- 
peare, and  even  rivaling  Shakespeare,  is  of  this 
class,  and  is  very  near  to  being  historically  cor- 
rect. 

The  problem  play  is  an  important  modern  form 
of  the  drama.  During  the  last  few  years  there 
has  been  introduced  upon  the  stage  a  class  of 
plays,  known  as  problem  plays,  which  are  supposed 
to  be  used  by  the  author  for  the  vivid  solution  of 
some  psychological  or  other  problem,  usually  one 
which  is  close  to  the  public  eye.  Capital  and  labor 
are  allowed  to  clash,  and  the  divorce  question  is 
much  in  evidence. 

Unfortunately,  some  of  the  problem  plays  are 
essentially  immoral  or  unmoral,  and  are  given  as 
an  excuse  for  the  presentation  of  uncontrolled  pas- 
sion. They  create  the  suspicion  that  the  play- 
wright did  not  produce  them  for  any  motive  ex- 
cept a  financial  one.  It  is  a  fact  that  the  average 
father  and  mother  will  allow  their  children  to  view, 
from  the  auditorium,  scenes  which  they  would  make 


PLAY  WRITING  77 

every  effort  to  keep  them  from  meeting  with  upon 
the  street. 

I  heartily  welcome  the  portrayal  of  sin,  and  even 
of  many  things  which  Mrs.  Grundy  would  call 
"  improper,"  if  there  is  a  moral  and  uplifting  ob- 
ject back  of  them. 

Nevertheless,  in  common  with  others  who  would 
uplift  the  stage  and  make  it  one  of  civilization's 
greatest  educators,  I  am  opposed  to  the  presence 
of  respectably  dressed  sin. 

Many  other  classes  of  plays  depend  upon  their 
immoral  coloring  for  success.  But  let  me  say 
here,  and  emphatically,  that  no  play  ever  met  with 
more  than  transient  success,  or  added  any  real 
reputation  to  its  writer,  unless  it  was  either  pure  in 
tone  or  pictured  vice  that  it  might  the  better  pre- 
sent virtue. 

The  would-be  playwright,  unless  familiar  with 
the  stage,  not^  only  from  the  auditorium,  but  from 
behind  the  scenes,  should  not  attempt  to  produce 
a  play  until  he  has  become  conversant  with  stage 
craft,  and  been  in  close  contact  with  actors  and 
actresses,  that  he  may  learn  their  ways,  and  what 
can  and  cannot  be  presented  in  play  form.     He 


78      THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

should  spend  considerable  time  on  the  stage  itself, 
although  he  need  not  take  part  in  the  play.  He 
should  be  familiar  with  scenery,  and  with  the 
handling  of  it.  He  should  read  most  carefully 
printed  plays,  and,  if  possible,  the  manuscript  of 
plays  which  are  not  published.  He  should  prac- 
tice the  writing  of  conversations  and  dialogues; 
and  he  must,  by  experience,  learn  how  to  make  his 
dialogue  largely  self-explanatory,  to  handle  his 
story  by  spoken  word,  not  by  written  explanation. 

Most  performances  begin  at  eight  o'clock  and 
end  at  ten-thirty  o'clock,  and  the  action  of  the 
play,  which  is  to  occupy  the  entire  evening,  must 
contain  sufficient  dialogue  to  sustain  it  for  about 
two  and  a  half  hours,  deducting,  of  course,  the  be- 
tween-acts  periods,  which  will  consume  from  fif- 
teen to  twenty  minutes,  if  the  play  has  as  many  as 
three  acts. 

When  a  play  is  accepted,  the  theatrical  man- 
ager sends  for  the  playwright,  or  communicates 
with  him  by  mail,  and  suggests  additions,  omis- 
sions, or  changes.  Comparatively  few  plays  are 
presented  as  originally  written.     Even  if  the  plaj 


PLAY  WRITING  79 

has  decided  merit,  it  may  be  too  long  or  too  short 
in  parts,  or  it  may  need  other  revision.  These 
changes  are  made  by  the  writer  of  it,  with  the  as- 
sistance of  the  theatrical  manager  or  stage  man- 
ager, or  the  leading  actor  or  actress,  who  will  ap- 
pear in  it.  It  is  then  placed  in  rehearsal,  and  the 
playwright  invited  to  be  present.  The  rehearsal 
is  held  with  a  darkened  auditorium,  but  upon  a 
lighted  stage,  usually  without  scenery.  The  ac- 
tors and  actresses  are  in  street  costume,  and  begin 
by  merely  repeating  lines.  Later,  a  full-dress  re- 
hearsal is  given,  when  the  play  is  presented  ex- 
actly as  it  will  be  before  an  audience. 

Most  plays  are  first  presented  in  some  pro- 
vincial city  or  town,  where  they  may  be  "  tried  upon 
the  dog,"  if  I  may  speak  in  theatrical  vernacular. 

Several  changes  may  be  necessary  after  a  dress 
rehearsal,  and  these  revisions  may  continue  for  a 
week  or  more,  or  even  after  the  play  has  been 
staged  in  the  theater  of  a  large  city. 

The  stage  manager  has  the  play  typewritten 
into  parts,  one  for  each  actor,  but  no  one  actor 
has  the  entire  manuscript. 


80       THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

Let  us  suppose  that  the  actor  bears  the  name  of 
"  Smith."  The  manuscript  he  receives  reads 
something  as  follows: 

"  Jones :  '  Hark,  I  hear  a  gun.'  "  The  forego- 
ing line  is  spoken  by  the  one  who  precedes  Smith. 
This  is  his  cue,  and  he  begins  to  speak  his  al- 
lotted lines  as  soon  as  Jones  has  said  "  gun."  He 
then  waits  for  another  cue,  and  proceeds. 

He  remains  in  his  dressing-room,  or  what  is 
known  as  the  green  room,  which  is  located  under 
or  at  the  side  of  the  stage,  until  a  few  minutes  be- 
fore his  entrance.  The  call-boy  notifies  him  that 
it  is  about  time  for  him  to  appear.  He  steps  be- 
hind the  scenes,  and  waits  for  his  cue. 

No  inexperienced  playwright  should  present  his 
play  to  the  buyers  of  plays,  until  it  has  been  read 
by  one  or  more  skillful  dramatic  editors  or  compe- 
tent actors.  If  they  approve  of  it,  he  should  then 
send  it  to  a  theatrical  manager,  or  place  it  in  the 
hands  of  some  dramatic  agency.  I  would  advise 
him,  however,  to  present  his  play  direct  to  the 
dramatic  manager  before  employing  an  agency, 
for  the  latter  demands  a  percentage,  which  the 
playwright  should  avoid,  if  possible. 


PLAY  WRITING  81 

The  chances  are  the  play  will  be  rejected  sev- 
eral times  before  accepted,  if  it  is  accepted  at  all. 

The  play  is  copyrighted,  either  by  the  manager, 
who  handles  it,  or  by  the  playwright  himself,  the 
copyright  fee  being  only  one  dollar. 

Comparatively  few  successful  plays  remain  in 
any  one  theater  for  more  than  a  few  months  at  a 
time.  They  go  on  the  road, —  eventually,  any- 
way. 

The  playwright  receives  his  remuneration  in  one 
of  the  following  ways :  First,  the  theatrical  man- 
ager buys  it  outright.  Secondly,  he  gives  the  au- 
thor a  sum  agreed  upon,  with  a  small  royalty. 
Thirdly,  the  playwright  receives  a  royalty  only; 
and  these  terms  usually  prevail.  The  royalty  is 
usually  based  upon  the  gate  receipts,  from  which 
the  expense  of  production  and  the  cost  of  running 
the  play  may  or  may  not  be  deducted. 

The  owner  of  the  play  frequently  sells  playing 
rights,  or  allows  certain  companies  to  present  it 
throughout  the  country,  in  which  case  the  author 
shares  the  income  with  him. 

As  the  price  paid  varies  so  much,  I  do  not  care 
to  present  defmite  figures.     The  author  may  be 


82      THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

paid  a  hundred  dollars,  or  several  thousand  dol- 
lars, for  the  play  outright,  or  he  may  receive  a 
gate-receipt  royalty. 

To  sum  up,  let  me  say  emphatically  that  play 
writing  is  not  likely  to  be  successful,  unless  the 
writer  has  a  strong  imagination,  and  is  proficient 
in  creating  situations  and  climaxes.  Further,  he 
is  not  likely  to  succeed  unless  he  has  experienced 
stage  craft.  He  must  have  sufficient  literary 
ability  properly  to  write  out  his  dialogue  or  con- 
versation. He  must  understand  men  and  things 
sufficiently  well  to  present  them  upon  the  stage, 
vividly,  realistically,  or  in  caricature.  Unless  he 
proposes  to  devote  his  time  to  the  writing  of 
tragedies,  dramas,  or  melodramas,  he  must  have  a 
keen  sense  of  humor. 

Quite  a  number  of  successful  plays  have  been 
taken  from  published  works  of  fiction,  or  from  his- 
torical novels,  in  which  case  the  playwright  adapts 
the  work  to  stage  purposes;  but  if  he  is  not  the 
author,  he  must  obtain  the  author's  consent,  and 
share  with  him  In  the  profit. 

The  plot  and  characters  in  the  book  may  be  fol- 
lowed closely,  or  departures  made  from  them.     If 


PLAY  WRITING  8S 

the  book  has  been  a  great  seller,  the  play  is  more 
likely  to  be  successful  than  it  would  have  been  if 
it  had  not  been  published  in  book  form. 

Comparatively  little  in  the  book  can  be  repro- 
duced literally  upon  the  stapje.  The  dialogues 
and  conversations  need  to  be  altered  and  adapted 
to  stage  presentation. 


CHAPTER  XII 
Motion-Picture  Plays 

THE  epidemic  growth  of  the  moving-picture 
play  has  opened  a  field  for  the  cultivation  of 
what  may  be  considered  a  new  department  of  lit- 
erature, or,  rather,  of  what  is  in  a  way  allied  to 
it. 

It  is  said  that  a  hundred  million  dollars  are  in- 
vested in  the  motion-picture  business.  There  is 
hardly  a  town  of  any  size,  from  the  Atlantic  to  the 
Pacific,  or  from  Winnipeg  to  the  Gulf  of  Mexico, 
which  does  not  support  one  or  two  moving-pic- 
ture houses. 

The  admission  is  usually  ten  cents,  occasionally 
as  much  as  twenty  cents  being  demanded  at  the 
door. 

The  motion-picture  play  is  produced  by  con- 
cerns of  enormous  capital,  who  send  their  agents 
or  photographers  all  over  the  world,  to  the  African 
jungle  and  to  the  frozen  regions  of  the  North. 

84 


MOTION-PICTURE  PLAYS  85 

Although  the  majority  of  scenes  are  produced  in 
the  picture-making  theater,  at  times,  however,  the 
whole  or  a  part  of  the  action  occurs  out  of  doors. 
The  camera  can  be  stopped  at  any  moment,  and 
the  action  may  be  in  a  dozen  places,  if  need  be. 

The  motion-picture  play-maker  employs  a  num- 
ber of  competent  actors,  who  comprise  his  stock 
company,  and  often  engages  those  of  international 
reputation.  Several  rehearsals  are  held,  that  the 
actors  may  become  familiar  with  the  play  before  it 
is  finally  photographed.  As  a  rule,  the  actors 
speak  their  parts,  that  their  work  may  be  realistic. 

The  playwright  may  or  may  not  write  in  the 
dialogue,  but  it  is  better  for  him  to  do  so;  but  he 
must  present  the  plot  and  outlines  of  the  situa- 
tions, and  designate  the  characters  and  their  cos- 
tumes. He  is  further  required  to  indicate  what 
they  are  to  do  and  say,  but  he  may  not  put  the 
words  to  be  spoken  into  their  mouths. 

It  is  obvious  that  there  must  be  rapid  action, 
and  that  the  play  must  be  so  constructed  as  to  be 
self-explanatory  by  action,  as  there  are  no  spoken 
words.  It  is  probable,  however,  that  a  combina- 
tion of  camera  and  talking-machine  will  soon  be 


86      THE  ART  OJ'  STORY  WRITING 

introduced,  which  will  require  as  much  attention  to 
the  dialogue  as  to  the  action  of  the  play. 

The  writers  of  moving-picture  plays  receive 
from  twenty-five  to  a  hundred  dollars  for  a  so- 
called  plot. 

While  an  intimate  knowledge  of  stage  craft  is 
unnecessary  to  the  framing  of  a  moving-picture 
play,  the  author  will  find  that  a  familiarity  with 
dramatic  conditions  will  be  of  much  benefit  to  him. 


CHAPTER  Xni 
The  Name  of  a  Book  or  Stort 

ONE  of  America's  most  successful  and  exten- 
sive publishers,  and  a  man  who  is  familiar, 
from  experience,  with  every  department  of  book 
publishing,  and  especially  expert  in  the  handling 
and  selling  of  books,  recently  told  me  that  it  was 
as  difficult  to  get  a  good  title  for  a  book  as  it 
was  to  obtain  a  good  manuscript  of  a  book. 

Thousands  of  books  owe  a  proportion  of  their 
success  to  their  titles,  and  many  a  one  has  failed, 
or  has  met  with  an  indifferent  success,  partly  be- 
cause an  inappropriate  or  unsuitable  title  was 
selected  for  it. 

The  author,  rather  than  the  publisher,  may  as- 
sume the  right  to  designate  the  title ;  but  he  should 
not  insist  upon  one,  no  matter  how  strongly  it 
may  appeal  to  him,  if  his  publisher  objects  to  it. 
He  should  counsel  with  his  publisher*  and  in  case 

87 


88       THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

of  disagreement  allow  the  publisher  to  select  the 
title. 

The  shorter  the  title,  the  better,  provided  it 
properly  describes  the  book  itself,  A  short  title 
lends  itself  to  the  cover,  and  assists  in  making  the 
appearance  of  the  book  more  presentable.  It  is 
easier  for  the  buyer  to  remember,  and  allows  in- 
creased opportunity  for  effective  advertising. 

A  long  title  injures  the  appearance  of  the  cover 
of  a  book. 

It  is  obvious  that  a  short  and  appropriate  title 
is  far  more  difficult  to  obtain,  than  is  one  contain- 
ing several  words,  which  is,  in  itself,  a  description 
of  the  book. 

Take  the  title  of  "  The  Pit,"  for  example.  A 
better  name  for  the  story  could  not  have  been  pro- 
cured. Not  only  did  it  lend  itself  typographically 
to  the  cover,  but  it  was  descriptive,  easy  to  re- 
member, easy  to  call  for,  and  of  striking  appear- 
ance. 

Let  us  suppose  that  the  author  had  chosen  a 
title  like,  "  The  Success  and  Failures  of  John  T. 
Smith,  Broker."  While  this  title  would  have  been 
appropriate,  it  is  altogether  too  long,  would  not 


THE  NAME  OF  A  BOOK  OR  STORY     89 

have  been  remembered,  and  would  have,  undoubt- 
edly, handicapped  the  sale  of  the  book. 

Many  successful  books  have  borne  the  names 
of  their  leading  characters ;  like  "  Jane  Bancroft,'* 
"  John  Hubbard,"  "  Jones  of  Boston,"  or  "  Smith 
of  Middlesex " ;  or  short  descriptive  titles,  like 
"  A  Country  Minister,"  **  The  Confession  of  a 
Banker,"  or  "  The  Story  of  a  Bachelor." 

There  is  no  objection  to  beginning  a  title  with 
some  word  like  "  How,"  if  the  book  gives  informa- 
tion ;  as,  "  How  to  Eat,"  **  What  to  Eat,"  "  How 
to  Travel,"  ''  How  to  Sell,"  «*  How  to  Buy,"  or 
"  How  to  Cook." 

Queer  names,  if  hard  to  pronounce,  should  never 
be  used.  The  buyer  of  a  book  should  not  be  sub- 
jected to  the  annoyance  of  being  unable  properly 
to  pronounce  the  title  of  the  book  he  calls  for. 

The  best  way  to  proceed  is  to  give  your  manu- 
script a  proper  title,  no  matter  how  long  or  short 
it  may  be.  Then,  after  consultation  with  your 
friends,  write  out  a  number  of  titles,  good,  bad, 
and  indifferent, —  the  more,  the  better.  Even  an 
inappropriate  or  silly  title  may  lead  to  an  accept- 
able   one.     Work    over    them    and    study    them. 


90      THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

Place  the  best  title,  according  to  your  judgment, 
on  your  manuscript,  and  enclose  with  your  manu- 
script a  slip  upon  which  are  written  other  titles. 
Do  not  fail  to  consult  with  your  publisher.  He 
is  as  much  interested  as  you  are  in  the  success  of 
the  book.     Do  not  be  obstinate  or  arbitrary. 

The  printed  forms  of  some  contracts  contain 
this  clause,  "  Or  any  other  title  which  may  be  de- 
cided upon."  You  have  plenty  of  time,  because 
it  is  not  necessary  to  decide  definitely  upon  the 
title  until  you  have  received  the  galley  proofs,  but 
it  must  be  chosen  before  the  page  proofs  are  made, 
as  the  title  of  the  book  is  usually  placed  on  every 
other  page. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

LiTEBABY  Schools 

THERE  have  been  established  various  schools, 
or  institutions,  which  claim  to  be  able  to  teach 
the  art  of  literature.  Some  of  these  are  con- 
ducted on  the  correspondence  plan. 

I  think  that  it  is  exceedingly  doubtful  if  any  one 
can  obtain  a  working  knowledge  of  the  art  from 
any  school,  and  especially  from  a  correspondence 
course. 

Contact  with  literary  workers  and  with  the  pub- 
lic at  large,  and  the  reading  of  good  books  repre- 
senting successful  literary  styles,  will  do  more,  I 
believe,  to  aid  the  would-be  litterateury  than  can 
any  so-called  institution,  though  alleged  to  be  able 
to  teach  the  art. 

I  am  afraid  that  some  of  these  literary  insti- 
tutions were  established  for  revenue  only,  and  are 
purely  commercial  enterprises.  Their  claims  look 
well  upon  paper,  but  I  think  that  few  of  them 

91 


92      THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

can  be  substantiated.  I  do  not  see  how  any  one 
can  learn  to  write,  as  he  would  learn  book-keeping, 
or  stenography,  or  arithmetic,  or  geography,  oi' 
any  other  concrete  art  or  science. 

So  much  depends  upon  contact  with  conditions 
and  persons,  and  upon  the  special  ability  of  the 
would-be  writer,  that  it  is  extremely  doubtful  if  the 
art  of  authorship  can  be  imparted  academically. 
Nor  does  it  seem  to  me  probable  that  much  of  any- 
thing worth  while  can  be  given  by  mail. 

The  literary  correspondence  school,  like  other 
correspondence  schools,  depends  for  its  profits  upon 
a  large  number  of  pupils.  It  seems  to  me  obvious 
that  little  personal  attention  can  be  given  to  any 
one  member  at  the  fee  charged  for  enrollment. 
Therefore,  I  am  constrained  to  believe  that  the 
service  rendered  by  most  correspondence  schools  is 
largely  automatic,  and  that  the  pupil  can  obtain 
as  much  from  a  good  book  or  books,  and  very  much 
more  by  contact  with  those  of  the  craft. 

Instead  of  connecting  one's  self  with  a  school,  I 
would  advise  the  would-be  writer  to  read  everything 
written  upon  the  subject,  of  course,  taking  into 
consideration  that  most  books  upon  literature  rep- 


LITERARY  SCHOOLS  93 

resent  the  personal  opinions  of  their  writers, 
which  may  be  overdrawn  and  biased ;  but  from  sev- 
eral books,  if  read  intelligently  and  discriminately, 
the  reader  may  obtain  a  general  insight  into  lit- 
erary matters,  and  into  the  construction  of  litera- 
ture, which  will  be  of  benefit  to  him. 

I  would  advise  him,  however,  to  read  these  books, 
and  all  other  books,  with  the  cooperation  or  as- 
sistance of  one  or  more  men  or  women  who  have 
won  literary  reputations.  By  contact,  both  with 
books  and  with  those  who  make  books,  he  may,  if 
he  will,  obtain  a  fair  grasp  upon  the  situation. 

Then,  he  must  learn  to  write  by  writing;  he 
must  practice  while  he  is  studying.  His  first  ef- 
forts may  amount  to  little,  but  if  each  one  shows 
some  improvement  over  its  predecessors,  he  may, 
in  time,  obtain  result.  Under  no  circumstances 
should  he  attempt  to  learn  how  to  write  as  he 
would  master  the  multiplication  table  or  history. 
It  is  impossible  to  become  an  author  by  rule,  or  by 
following  blindly  any  regulations  which  may  be  for- 
mulated by  those  who  think  they  can  teach  the  un- 
teachable. 


CHAPTER  XV 

LiTERAKY  Agencies  or  Bureaus 

IN  many  of  the  general  magazines,  and  in  some 
of  the  periodicals,  appear  advertisements  of 
literary  agencies  or  bureaus,  which  claim  to  be  able 
to  sell  manuscripts  to  the  author's  advantage  and 
to  have  special  facilities  for  revision.  Connected 
with  these  agencies  are  one  or  more  literary  men 
or  women,  usually  with  some  reputation. 

I  would  advise  the  writer  or  owner  of  a  manu- 
script to  have  absolutely  nothing  to  do  with  any 
of  these  agencies  or  bureaus,  unless  they  are  rec- 
ommended to  him  by  some  reputable  book  pub- 
lisher or  editor  of  high  standing. 

If   the   advertisement    of    one    of   the    agencies 

seems   alluring,   send   it    to   some   first-class   book 

publisher  or  editor  and  ask  him  to  advise  you  about 

it.     If  you  are  in  doubt,  consult  the  editor  of  a 

reputable  newspaper,  a  literary  man  of  standing, 

or  an  editor  of  one  of  the  great  magazines.     These 

94 


LITERARY  AGENCIES  OR  BUREAUS      96 

parties  would  speak  favorably  only  of  agencies  of 
the  highest  standing. 

Some  of  those  literary  agencies,  I  believe,  are 
nothing  more  or  less  than  traps,  set  to  catch  the 
author.  Their  announcements  appear  to  be  fair 
and  honest,  and  they  particularly  request  the  au- 
thor to  forward  his  manuscript.  On  receipt  of 
it,  it  is  quite  likely  that  they  will  suggest  that  it  be 
revised,  or  copied,  which  the  agency  will  be  pleased 
to  do  at  a  price  named.  If  the  manuscript  has 
merit,  the  agency  may  place  it  with  some  pub- 
lisher, in  which  case  the  author  has  to  give  the 
agency  a  part  of  his  receipts. 

I  am  of  the  opinion  that  the  author  will  be  as 
well,  or  better,  off  if  he  communicates  direct  with 
the  publishers  and  not  through  an  agency.  True, 
the  agency  may  be  better  informed  of  the  require- 
ments of  the  book  publishers,  and  it  may  know 
better  than  the  author  does  just  which  publisher 
would  be  likely  to  take  it.  But  if  it  succeeds,  the 
author  must  pay  handsomely  for  its  trouble. 

If  the  author  is  unfamiliar  with  book  publishers, 
and  does  not  know  their  requirements,,  and,  there- 
fore, is  not  in  a  position  to  know  to  which  pub- 


96       THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

lisher  he  had  better  send  his  manuscript,  I  sug- 
gest that  he  consult  with  some  literary  man  or 
editor  of  standing,  who  wiU  probably  be  able  to 
give  him  better  advice  than  he  will  be  likely  to  re- 
ceive from  any  literary  bureau,  and  this  advice 
he  will  obtain  without  expense.  Or,  let  him  write 
to  a  few  book  publishers,  giving  a  synopsis  of  his 
manuscript,  and  ask  each  if  that  particular  plot 
interests  him.  In  this  way  it  is  probable  that  he 
will  obtain  the  information  he  desires. 

Then,  as  to  revision,  I  think  he  will  obtain  a 
better  result,  and  at  a  lower  price,  if  he  employs 
some  literary  man  in  his  town  or  city,  or  takes  up 
the  matter  with  some  one  at  a  distance.  If  he  is 
in  doubt,  any  editor  can  help  him. 

Revision  is  not  difficult  to  do.  If  the  story  is 
wholly  unmarketable,  no  amount  of  revision  wUl 
help  it.  If  it  is  about  right,  revision  may  make 
it  all  right.  But  I  think  that  any  good  literary 
man  or  woman  is  likely  to  give  the  author  more 
efficient  service  than  he  would  probably  obtain  from 
any  agency  or  bureau. 

Many  a  school  teacher  has  a  good  command  of 
language,  and  can  be  of  great  assistance  to  the 


LITERARY  AGENCIES  OR  BUREAUS     97 

author.  I  would  not,  then,  particularly  recom- 
mend the  literary  bureau  or  agency,  although 
some  of  them  are  furnishing  good  service.  I  think 
that  the  author  can  obtain  all,  or  more  than,  they 
can  give,  by  placing  his  manuscript  in  the  hands 
of  some  well-educated  man  or  woman  for  correc- 
tion and  revision,  and  that  any  good  book 
publisher  or  literary  editor  will  determine  the 
marketability  of  the  manuscript  as  readily  as  can 
any  literary  bureau  official. 

Unless  the  author  is  busy,  he  had  better  recopy 
his  manuscript  himself.  If  there  is  need  for  out- 
side help  for  copying,  any  competent  typewritist 
will  do  the  work  for  him  at  a  fair  price. 


CHAPTER  XVI 
The  Peeparation  of  a  Manuscript 

UNDER  another  heading  I  have  suggested  the 
size  and  quality  of  the  paper  to  be  used. 

All  manuscripts  should  be  written  on  the  type- 
writer, and  ruled  paper  should  not  be  used,  un- 
less the  manuscript  is  hand-written. 

Many  book  publishers  will  not  consider  a  pen- 
written  manuscript,  and  the  majority  of  periodi- 
cals and  newspapers,  other  than  country  news- 
papers, will  refuse  to  read  a  manuscript  which  is 
not  typewritten. 

If  you  do  not  own  a  typewriter  and  do  not  feel 
that  you  can  afford  to  purchase  one,  you  may  rent 
a  fairly  good  machine  as  low  as  five  dollars  for 
three  months.  The  standard  typewriters  cost  ap- 
proximately one  hundred  dollars,  but  there  are  sev- 
eral machines  on  the  market  which  can  be  had  for 

much  less,  and  which  answer  the  purpose. 

9S 


PREPARATION  OF  A  MANUSCRIPT    99 

A  typewriter  with  visible  writing  is  to  be  pre- 
ferred to  others. 

Use  a  black,  or  blue-black,  or  dark  blue,  or  dark 
green  ink,  and  under  no  circumstances  a  purple,  a 
yellow,  or  any  other  color.  Black,  or  blue-black, 
is  preferable. 

There  should  be  a  margin  of  at  least  one  inch 
at  the  top,  bottom,  and  sides. 

Under  no  circumstances  write  on  more  than  one 
side  of  the  sheet. 

Single  or  narrow  space  between  lines  is  an 
abomination.  The  lines  of  all  manuscript  should 
be  double  spaced. 

Unless  your  paragraphs  are  plainly  indicated, 
precede  them  with  a  paragraph  mark.  Should 
you,  however,  desire  to  add  paragraphs  after  the 
manuscript  is  written,  there  is  no  need  of  rewrit- 
ing; simply  write  in  paragraph  marks.  Should  a 
paragraph  appear  in  a  manuscript,  which,  after 
consideration,  you  desire  to  have  set  not  as  a  para- 
graph, mark  in  front  of  it  the  word  **  No,"  fol- 
lowed by  the  paragraph  mark,  or  the  words  "  Run 
in." 

Be  very  careful  with  your  spelling,  particularly 


100     THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

of  proper  names  and  of  technical  terms,  for  the 
editor  and  publisher  will  hold  you  responsible  for 
all  spelling,  except  of  common  words,  and  he  may 
demand  that  all  words  and  terms  be  correctly 
spelled. 

Do  not  write  more  than  one  or  two  words  at  a 
time  between  the  lines,  and  better  avoid  doing  this 
altogether,  as  interlining  confuses  the  reader  and 
compositor.  It  is  better  to  cross  out  wrong  or 
misspelled  words  and  write  them  on  the  same  line, 
than  it  is  to  interline  them. 

Avoid,  as  far  as  possible,  writing  in  the  mar- 
gins. If  you  make  many  changes  on  any  page  of 
your  manuscript,  better  rewrite  it,  even  if  it  does 
not  make  your  page  come  out  even,  or  carries  the 
matter  over  to  another  page. 

While  it  is  desirable  to  have  about  the  same 
number  of  words  upon  each  page,  there  is  no  need 
of  rewriting  the  page  or  pages  to  produce  this 
result,  so  long  as  your  matter  is  not  discon- 
nected. 

Every  publisher  of  books,  or  of  periodicals  and 
newspapers,  maintains  a  style  of  his  own  as  regards 
paragraphing,  spelling,  and  punctuation,  and  he 


PREPARATION  OF  A  MANUSCRIPT     101 

will  set  the  manuscript  according  to  his  system, 
unless  it  be  one  of  a  technical  character. 

Unless  you  know  the  style  prevailing  in  the  pub- 
lisher's office,  or  in  the  magazine  or  newspaper  of- 
fice, paragraph,  punctuate,  and  spell  according 
to  your  system,  if  it  is  one  of  the  standards,  and  be 
consistent.  The  editor  will  make  changes,  if  he 
desires  to  do  so;  but  you  should  not  consider  this 
an  excuse  for  careless  paragraphing,  punctuation, 
or  spelling. 

Write  in  your  chapters  and  chapter  headings, 
and  if,  for  any  reason,  you  desire  to  have  any 
part  of  the  book  set  in  smaller  type  than  that  used 
for  the  body,  indicate  it  by  writing  "  Small  type  " 
at  the  side  of  the  paragraph. 

Draw  one  line  under  all  lines  you  desire  to  have 
set  in  italics,  two  lines  under  those  to  be  set  in 
small  capitals,  and  three  lines  under  those  to  be  set 
in  capitals. 

If  your  book  contains  dialogue,  be  very  careful 
to  use  quotation  marks,  and  to  have  a  separate 
paragraph  for  what  each  person  says,  using  more 
than  one  paragraph  if  the  spoken  words  occupy 
over  a  dozen  lines. 


lOa     THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

Number  each  page  with  figures, —  1,  2,  3,  4,  etc., 
—  and  write  them  in  the  upper  right-hand  corner. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  repeat  the  chapter  head- 
ings on  the  manuscript. 

If,  after  the  manuscript  is  completed,  you  desire 
to  insert  one  or  more  pages,  write  in  the  upper 
left-hand  corner,  "  46-B,"  "  46-C,"  etc.,  and  then 
insert  them  in  the  proper  place.  For  example: 
let  us  suppose  that  you  desire  to  insert  three  pages 
between  pages  46  and  47.  It  is  not  necessary  for 
you  to  repage  the  entire  manuscript ;  simply  write 
"  A  "  after  46  on  page  46,  and  then  write  "  46-B," 
"  46-C,"  and  "  46-D,"  respectively  on  the  inserted 
pages ;  and  on  page  "  46-D  "  write,  "  Next  page 
47."  This  will  assure  the  editor  and  compositor 
that  no  page  has  been  omitted.  If  you  remove  a 
page,  say  page  62,  write  in  the  upper  left-hand 
comer  of  the  page  following  the  omitted  page, 
"  No  page  62." 

Your  manuscript  numbers  should  run  consecu- 
tively, and  you  should  not  write  in  the  margin  of 
any  page,  "  Insert  paragraph  marked  1,"  or 
"  Paragraph  marked  A."  Have  these  insertions 
come  in  regular  order,  even  if  by  so  doing,  some  of 


PREPARATION  OF  A  MANUSCRIPT     108 

the  pages  will  contain  an  uneven  amount  of  n»t- 
ter. 

In  another  chapter  I  have  told  you  Kow  to  esti- 
mate the  number  of  words  or  length  of  a  manu- 
script, and  how  to  give  this  information  to  the 
editor  or  publisher. 

Begin  every  chapter  on  a  new  page. 

Underline  all  foreign  words,  like  "  prima  facU" 
so  they  may  be  set  in  italics. 

A  good  way  to  prepare  a  manuscript,  which,  if 
you  are  a  ready  writer,  will  save  you  much  time 
and  trouble,  and  the  expense  of  copying  more  than 
a  part  of  it,  is  to  write  th^  matter  on  pai>er  eight 
and  a  half  by  eleven  inches,  and  then  paste  the 
written  sheets  upon  papier  about  eleven  inches  from 
right  to  left  and  twelve  and  a  half  inches  from 
top  to  bottom,  these  larger  sheets  to  be  paged. 
On  these  larger  sheets  allow  a  wider  margin  on  the 
left  than  at  the  top,  bottom,  and  right.  By  this 
method  you  can  easily  insert  additions  and  revi- 
sions, and  yet  your  manuscript  will  read  smoothly. 

Let  us  suppose,  for  example,  that  after  your 
manuscript  is  written,  you  wish  to  insert  consider- 
able matter  in  certain  places.     You  will  then  cut  up 


104      THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

the  pages  written  upon,  and  paste  the  pages,  or 
parts  of  them,  where  thej  belong  on  the  larger 
sheets. 

Practically  all  manuscripts  are  subjected  to  ad- 
ditions, omissions,  and  revision.  By  following 
this  method,  you  will  have  to  rewrite  only  that 
part  of  the  matter  which  needs  changes,  and  you 
can  add  or  omit  as  you  please. 

After  pasting  the  manuscript  pages  upon  the 
large  sheets,  press  them  out  smoothly  by  placing 
large  books  upon  them. 

While  this  method  does  not  present  as  hand- 
some a  manuscript,  it  is  acceptable  to  every  editor 
and  publisher,  for  they  care  nothing  about  the 
appearance  of  the  manuscript,  if  it  is  on  paper 
of  sufficient  strength  and  suitable  size,  and  reads 
smoothly,  with  no  disconnections. 

If  the  margin  is  sufficiently  wide  at  the  left,  you 
can,  if  you  desire,  fasten  your  manuscript  together 
by  punching  holes  in  the  left  margin  and  insert- 
ing strings  through  the  holes,  but  this  is  not  neces- 
sary. 

A  very  acceptable  and  good  form  of  manuscript 
is  to  bind  it  into  portable  covers,  similar  to  those 


PREPARATION  OF  A  MANUSCRIPT     105 

used  for  loose-leaf  ledgers.  These  covers,  and  the 
perforated  pages  to  fit  them,  may  be  purchased 
at  any  large  stationer,  and  they  are  not  expensive. 
This  method  keeps  the  manuscript  in  good  shape, 
and  it  is  not  likely  to  be  mutilated  or  soiled  by  the 
editor  or  reader  of  it.  Of  course,  it  will  be  de- 
tached from  the  covers  when  given  to  the  composi- 
tor. If  you  use  this  form,  number  your  pages  as 
you  would  in  a  loose  manuscript. 

The  author  should  accompany  his  manuscript 
with  a  title-page,  and  allow  one  page  for  the  copy- 
right line. 

He  should,  as  a  rule,  present  his  table  of  con- 
tents, and  the  index,  if  the  book  is  to  be  indexed. 
He  should  not,  however,  write  in  the  page  numbers 
on  either  of  the  manuscript  pages  of  the  contents 
or  index,  because  the  correct  numbers  cannot  be 
ascertained  until  the  book  is  set  and  page  proofs 
taken. 

Some  years  ago,  publishers  of  high-class  books 
made  a  requirement  that  every  chapter  should  be- 
gin on  a  right-hand  page,  but  this  condition  no 
longer  prevails.  However,  the  author  cannot  an- 
ticipate it,  as  he  does  not  know,  until  he  receives 


106      THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

proofs,  where  the  pages  will  begin,  nor  does  he 
know  whether  or  not  the  ending  of  any  chapter 
will  fill  a  page  or  occupy  only  a  part  of  it.  The 
last  page  of  a  chapter  in  a  book,  however,  should 
not  contain  less  than  six  type  lines. 

If  the  manuscript,  when  paged-up,  runs  from 
one  to  five  lines  over  full  pages,  the  publisher  usu- 
ally requests  the  author  to  add  to  the  proof  a 
sufficient  number  of  words  to  make  the  last  page 
of  the  chapter  contain  at  least  six  lines ;  or  the 
author  may  omit  a  sufficient  number  of  lines  from 
the  chapter  itself,  so  that  it  will  not  run  over  into 
the  following  page. 

These  omissions  and  additions  are  usually  made 
after  the  page  proofs  are  furnished,  but  if  the 
author  knows  the  number  of  lines  to  a  page,  he  can 
anticipate  them,  and  make  them  on  the  galley 
proofs.  As  this  running  over  is  not  the  fault  of 
the  author,  it  is  not  usually  charged  as  author's 
corrections  when  it  occurs. 

If  you  add  pages,  the  number  written  on  the 
last  page  will  not  represent  the  exact  number  of 
pages  in  the  manuscript;  then  on  the  last  page 
write  something  as  foUows :  "  360  pages,"  which 


PREPARATION  OF  A  MANUSCRIPT     107 

number  must  include  the  inserted  pages.  If  you 
do  not  do  this,  and  have  inserted  many  pages,  the 
manuscript  would  appear  to  contain  less  pages 
than  it  actually  does. 

While  the  public  or  reader  never  sees  a  manu- 
script, the  better  the  manuscript,  all  things  being 
equal,  the  more  likehood  of  its  being  accepted. 


CHAPTER  XVn 

Manuscript  Papee 

THE  best  paper  for  manuscripts,  either  for 
books  or  for  magazines  or  newspaper  articles, 
should  be  quite  thin,  but  never  as  thin  as  tissue 
paper,  and  of  the  stock  commercially  known  as 
bond,  which  is  tough  and  strong,  and  does  not  easily 
tear  in  the  typewriter  or  when  handled.  If  thick 
paper  is  used,  it  will  be  difficult  to  make  carbon 
copies,  and  they  are  likely  to  be  indistinct. 

Manuscript  paper  should  never  be  larger  than 
eight  and  one-half  inches  from  right  to  left,  and 
eleven  inches  from  top  to  bottom.  This  size  is 
standard.  It  should  not  be  smaller  than  six  inches 
from  right  to  left,  or  eight  inches  from  top  to 
bottom. 

White  is  acceptable,  but  some  light  tint,  like 

light  yellow,  light  gray,  light  buff,  light  orange, 

or  light  blue  is  preferable  to  white,  because  a  tint 

or  light  color  is  easier  on  the  eye. 

108 


MANUSCRIPT  PAPER  109 

Good  bond  paper  can  be  obtained  from  seven  to 
twelve  cents  per  pound,  and  it  should  be  of  a 
thickness  known  in  the  trade  as  from  sixteen  to 
twenty  pounds  to  the  ream.  The  paper  is 
made  in  sheets  which  may  be  cut  up  into  four 
sheets  eight  and  one-half  by  eleven  inches  without 
waste.  A  ream  of  this  paper, —  and  a  ream  is 
usually  ^\e  hundred,  instead  of  four  hundred  and 
eighty,  sheets, —  will  cut  up  into  two  thousand 
sheets  of  standard  size.  The  cost,  then,  of  a 
thousand  sheets  of  manuscript  paper  of  standard 
size,  and  of  the  twenty-pound  weight,  at  seven 
cents  per  pound,  would  be  seventy  cents. 

I  have  covered  other  details  of  manuscript  paper 
in  the  chapter  headed  **  The  Preparation  of  a 
Manuscript." 

Do  not  use  a  ruled  paper,  unless  your  manu- 
script is  hand-written. 

Avoid  a  paper  with  a  surface  which  will  not 
permit  the  use  of  pen  and  ink,  because  the  editor 
or  reader  may  desire  to  make  corrections  upon 
the  manuscript,  and  if  the  paper  is  soft  and 
spongy  tlie  ink  from  the  pen  will  blur  upon  it. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

Copying  Manuscript 

ALL  manuscripts,  if  of  any  importance,  should 
be  copied  by  the  author,  and  the  copies 
should  be  kept  away  from  the  original  manuscript, 
so  that  there  will  be  a  copy  remaining  in  case  of 
the  loss  or  destruction  of  the  original  manuscript 
or  of  the  copy  itself.  It  is  not  likely  that  both,  if 
kept  in  separate  places,  will  meet  with  loss  or  de- 
struction. 

Publishers  do  not  hold  themselves  responsible  for 
the  loss  of,  or  damage  to,  a  manuscript,  although 
they  usually  take  good  care  of  them.  If  a  pub- 
lisher loses  or  damages  a  manuscript,  the  author 
has  no  redress. 

Copies  of  manuscripts  may  be  made  in  the  fol- 
lowing ways : 

First,  when  done  on  the  tyepwriter,  a  carbon 
sheet  is  inserted  between  the  regular  manuscript, 
110 


COPYING  MANUSCRIPT  111 

paper  and  another  sheet  of  the  same  kind  of  paper 
or  of  thinner  stock.  Care  should  be  taken  not  to 
use  worn  carbon  paper,  as  the  copies  should  be 
nearly  as  distinct  as  the  original,  and  sufficiently 
good  to  take  the  place  of  the  original  manuscript 
if  it  is  lost.  But  in  this  case,  I  would  advise  a  re- 
copying  of  the  copy.  If  thin  paper  is  used,  two 
or  three  carbon  copies  may  be  made,  but  one  is 
usually  sufficient.  A  record,  and  not  a  copying 
ribbon,  should  be  used  on  the  typewriter. 

Secondly,  copies  of  manuscripts,  either  type- 
written with  a  copying  ribbon  or  written  with  a 
pen  and  copying  ink,  may  be  produced  by  the  wet 
or  damp  process  of  copying;  that  is,  by  placing 
next  to  each  page  of  the  manuscript  a  sheet  of  tis- 
sue paper,  on  the  top  of  which  is  a  damp  cloth,  and 
pressing  with  a  copying  press,  or  with  very  heavy 
weights.  The  process,  however,  blurs  both  the 
manuscript  and  the  copy  of  it. 

Thirdly,  a  pencil  or  indelible  pencil  may  be  used 
for  the  writing  of  the  manuscript,  and  a  sheet  of 
carbon  paper  placed  between  it  and  another  sheet, 
but  the  work  of  the  pencil  is  to  be  discouraged,  ex- 
cept for  making  drafts  or  outlines. 


US!     THE  ART  Oi'  STORY  WRITING 

Changes  made  on  the  original  manuscript  should 
be  duplicated  upon  the  copy. 

To  save  time,  it  is  suggested  that  the  eraser  be 
not  used.  Cross  out  misspelled  words  or  other  er- 
rors, by  running  x's  or  lines  through  them,  and 
continuing  as  though  the  mistakes  had  not  oc- 
curred. By  doing  this,  alteration  will  not  have  to 
be  made  with  pen  or  pencil  upon  the  copies. 

The  editor,  reader,  or  compositor  does  not  ob- 
ject to  these  obliterations,  if  there  are  not  too 
many  of  them,  and  the  manuscript  reads  smoothly. 


CHAPTER  XIX 
The  Number  of  Wobds  in  a  Manuscript 

IT  is  advisable,  and  sometimes  necessary,  to  in- 
dicate on  the  manuscript,  preferably  upon  the 
first  page  of  it,  approximately  the  number  of 
words  it  contains. 

Although  the  number  of  words  to  the  page  vary, 
it  is  easy  to  strike  an  average,  which  is  not  likely 
to  be  more  than  five  per  cent  out  of  the  way. 

The  author  should  count  the  number  of  words 
appearing  on  at  least  a  dozen  pages,  the  pages  not 
to  be  selected  consecutively.  Add  these  numbers 
together  and  divide  by  the  number  of  pages 
counted,  and  multiply  the  result  by  the  total  num- 
ber of  pages. 

A  better  way,  and  a  more  correct  one,  is  to 
count  the  number  of  words  contained  in  from  fifty 
to  a  hundred  lines;  then  add  them  together  and 
divide  them  by  the  number  of  lines  counted ;  multi- 
ply this  number  by  the  number  of  lines  in  the 
113 


114     THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

manuscript.  The  result  is  likely  to  be  more  close 
to  the  correct  number,  unless  the  author  has  writ- 
ten with  a  pen  several  lines  between  the  typewrit- 
ten sections,  as  it  is  obvious  that  pen-written  lines 
are  likely  to  contain  less  words  than  the  typewrit- 
ten lines. 

After  the  number  of  words  has  been  ascertained, 
write  in  the  left-hand  corner  of  the  first  page  of 
the  manuscript,  the  number  of  words  which  it  con- 
tains. This  should  be  done,  not  only  with  book 
manuscripts,  but  with  those  of  short  stories  and 
articles. 


CHAPTER  XX 
RjBYisiNO  Manuscripts 

NO  author  or  writer,  however  conversant  with 
literature  he  maj  be,  or  trained  in  manu- 
script reading  or  editing,  even  though  he  may  be 
an  expert  in  English  composition,  can  read  or  re- 
vise his  own  manuscript,  with  the  certainty  of  ob- 
taining a  clean  or  perfect  result. 

It  has  been  said,  and  with  some  degree  of  truth, 
that  the  better  the  writer,  the  poorer  he  may  be 
as  a  manuscript  and  proof-reader  of  his  own  work, 
because  he  is  very  likely  to  carry  his  written  words 
in  his  mind  as  well  as  to  have  them  upon  paper; 
and  he  cannot,  therefore,  read  his  manuscript  as 
intently,  or  as  critically,  as  may  one  who  has  no 
interest  in  it. 

So  far  as  I  know,  no  manuscript  of  any  length 
has  ever  been  free  from  grammatical  and  other 
errors,  and  some  of  these  mistakes  will  be  carried 
115 


116      THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

to  the  printed  page,  even  though  the  manuscript 
and  proofs  have  passed  through  several  hands. 

Complete  accuracy  is  impossible,  but  fairly  clean 
manuscripts  may  be  had,  if  the  writer  employs 
the  services  of  one  competent  to  read  them. 

In  every  city  there  are  several  professional  man- 
uscript readers.  If  there  are  none  nearby,  the 
author  should  send  his  manuscript,  by  mail  or  ex- 
press, to  some  good  manuscript  reader,  and  the 
result  will  be  practically  the  same  as  if  he  came 
in  personal  contact  with  him. 

Editors  of  newspapers,  of  other  periodicals,  and 
of  publishing  houses  will  gladly  give  you  the  name 
and  address  of  several  responsible  readers,  who 
will  not  overcharge  for  the  work. 

The  reader  is  warned  against  many  of  the  adver- 
tised "  readers  "  or  "  institutions,"  which  claim  to 
be  able  to  revise  manuscripts  and  to  make  them 
salable. 

^I  have  spoken  of  these  "  readers  "  in  a  chapter 
entitled  "  Literary  Bureaus." 

A  good  manuscript  or  proof-reader  understands 
the  English  language  and  is  expert  at  composi- 


REVISING  MANUSCRIPTS  117 

tion  and  punctuation,  and  at  locating  inconsisten- 
cies. Many  of  the  best  manuscript  readers  are 
not  college  graduates,  but  have  served  apprentice- 
ship in  newspaper  offices  as  proofreaders.  Mere 
education  itself  does  not  make  one  proficient  in  this 
art,  but  no  one  can  succeed  in  it  without  educa- 
tion. 

Manuscript  reading  may  be  divided  into  two 
classifications : 

First,  correction,  so  far  as  punctuation,  spell- 
ing, paragraphing,  and  grammar  are  concerned. 

Secondly,  the  marking  or  questioning  of  incon- 
sistencies, an  analysis  of  plot  and  characters,  and 
suggestions  for  improvement. 

The  fees  charged  by  good  manuscript  readers 
are  not  excessive.  A  fair  market  rate  for  this  work 
is  fifty  cents  for  the  first  two  or  three  thousand 
words,  and  from  fifteen  to  twenty-five  cents  for 
each  thousand  words  up  to  ten  or  twelve  thousand ; 
and  from  a  dollar  and  a  half  to  two  and  a  half 
dollars  for  each  ten  thousand  words  in  excess  of 
ten  or  twelve  thousand. 

If  the  reader  is  called  upon  to  locate  inconsisten- 


118      THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

cles,  with  or  without  correcting  them,  and  to  advise 
the  author  as  to  plot  and  characters,  he  may  re- 
ceive double  the  rates  quoted. 

The  cost  of  typewriting  a  manuscript, —  and  all 
manuscripts  should  be  corrected  before  the  final 
copy  is  made, —  is  four  or  five  cents  per  hundred 
words,  with  one  or  two  cents  per  page  additional 
if  carbon  copies  are  furnished. 

I  would  advise  all  authors  to  have  carbon  copies 
made  of  their  manuscripts.  Unless  the  author  is 
well-to-do,  I  would  suggest  that  he  copy  his  own 
manuscript,  purchasing  or  leasing  a  typewriter 
for  the  purpose.  Standard  typewriters  sell  from 
seventy-five  to  one  hundred  dollars,  but  there  are  a 
number  of  old  makes  of  these  standard  machines 
which  do  good  work,  and  which  can  be  purchased 
as  low  as  twenty-five  dollars.  Several  typewriter 
companies  will  sell  typewriters  on  installments,  and 
they  may  be  rented  as  low  as  five  dollars  for  three 
months,  although  five  dollars  a  month  is  the  regu- 
lar price. 

Distance  from  a  typewriter  office  presents  no  ob- 
stacle. They  can  be  sent  by  express  or  freight. 
Every  author,  however,  should  have  a  typewriter 


REVISING  MANUSCRIPTS  119 

of  his  own.  I  would  advise  against  the  use  of  what 
is  known  as  :6lite  type,  as  the  regular  size  known 
as  Pica  type  is  preferable. 

Never  use  more  than  one  color  of  ink  in  a  manu- 
script, as  it  may  confuse  the  reader  and  composi- 
tor. 

I  would  advise  every  author  to  obtain  the  serv- 
ices of  a  good  manuscript  or  proof-reader,  other- 
wise his  manuscript  is  liable  to  contain  errors,  and 
often  inexcusable  ones.  He  may  transpose  the 
characters  and  improperly  locate  the  actions  and 
situations. 

If  one  will  study  books  and  articles  carefully,  he 
will  find  that  occasionally,  because  of  the  lack  of 
proper  reading  and  revising,  the  author  has  called 
some  of  his  characters  by  several  names,  has  mis- 
located  the  places,  has  repeated  and  contradicted 
himself.  Only  by  revision, —  and  this  to  be  done 
by  an  outsider, —  can  the  author  hope  to  produce  a 
fairly  correct  manuscript. 

I  have  referred  to  these  matters  in  other  chap- 
ters. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

How  TO  Send  a  Manuscript 

MANUSCRIPTS  for  short  articles,  and  of 
only  a  few  pages,  may  be  folded  twice  and 
placed  in  envelopes.  When  they  consist  of  more 
than  a  dozen  pages,  they  should  not  be  folded,  but 
delivered  flat. 

It  is  well  to  place  a  piece  of  heavy  cardboard, 
of  the  size  of  the  manuscript  page,  at  the  top  and 
bottom  of  the  manuscript. 

Another  good  way  is  to  place  the  manuscript  in 
a  box,  which  may  be  a  little  larger  in  length,  width, 
or  depth.  If  too  deep,  place  sheets  of  pasteboard 
on  top  of  the  manuscript  to  take  up  the  surplus 
space.  If  the  box  is  a  little  too  long,  or  too  wide, 
slips  of  pasteboard  will  fill  up  the  space,  or  sheets 
of  folded  paper  may  be  inserted. 

Place  at  least  two  wrappers  on  either  the  pack- 
age or  the  box.  The  outer  wrapper  should  be  of 
120 


HOW  TO  SEND  A  MANUSCRIPT      121 

strong  Manilla  or  brown  paper.  Then  tie  it  se- 
curely with  strong  string.  If  you  use  ordinary 
twine,  wind  it  around  the  package  at  least  four 
times,  and  look  out  for  "  granny  "  knots. 

As  letter  postage  must  be  paid  on  manuscripts, 
and  the  express  companies  make  no  extra  charge 
for  scaled  matter,  it  would  be  well  to  seal  the  man- 
uscript securely,  either  with  sealing  wax  or  paper 
seals,  or  the  wrapper  may  be  pasted  together. 

If  sent  by  mail,  it  is  well  to  emphasize  the  seal- 
ing, so  that  the  post-office  clerks  will  not  consider 
it  merchandise  or  printed  matter. 

Write,  or  better,  print,  your  name  in  the 
upper  left-hand  corner,  preceded  with  the  word 
"  From."  Write  the  address  of  the  editor  or  pub- 
lisher in  the  lower  right-hand  comer  space,  and 
precede  it  with  "  To."  Place  the  postage  stamps 
in  the  upper  right-hand  corner.  In  the  lower  left- 
hand  space,  print  very  prominently,  in  large  let- 
ters, either  "Manuscript,"  or  "First-class  mat- 
ter." 

If  you  enclose  a  letter  with  the  manuscript,  be- 
low the  words  "  Manuscript  "  or  "  First-class  mat- 
ter "  write  or  print  "  Letter  enclosed." 


122     THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 


The  foregoing  is  illustrated  by  the  following 
diagram,  the  rules  representing  the  string. 


From 

JOHN  T.  SMITH, 
460  Main  Street, 

Boston,  Mass. 


Postage 

Stamps 


MANUSCRIPT 


To 
Editor 


The  Evening  Globe, 

New  York  City. 


If  sent  by  express,  prepay  the  express,  and 
write  or  print  "  Express  Prepaid,"  in  lower  left- 
hand  comer. 

Manuscripts  sent  by  express  should  be  addressed 
in  the  same  way. 

Manuscripts  sent  to  a  distance  will  go  more 
cheaply  by  mail,  if  there  are  comparatively 
few  pages.  It  will  be  well,  however,  for  you  to 
have  your  manuscript  weighed,  either  at  the  post 


HOW  TO  SEND  A  MANUSCRIPT      123 

office  or  on  some  store  scales,  unless  you  have 
scales  of  your  own.  The  postage  rate  is  two 
cents  per  ounce  or  fraction  of  an  ounce.  If  it 
weighs  a  pound  or  more,  the  express  is  likely  to 
be  lower.  If  you  send  it  by  express,  be  sure  to 
obtain  a  receipt.  Express  companies  make  an  ad- 
ditional charge  if  the  value  exceeds  forty-nine  or 
fifty  dollars.  Therefore,  if  it  would  cost  you  as 
much  as  forty-nine  or  fifty  dollars  to  copy  the 
manuscript,  have  one  of  these  figures  written  into 
the  receipt.  There  is  no  additional  express 
charge  for  value  under  forty-nine  or  fifty  dollars. 

Manuscripts  may  be  sent  by  registered  mail  at 
a  cost  of  ten  cents  above  regular  postage. 

Always  retain  a  copy  of  the  manuscript  if  it  is 
of  much  importance;  for  the  editor  or  publisher 
does  not  guarantee  manuscripts  against  loss. 
They  are  sent  and  held  at  the  author's  risk. 
While  there  is  very  little  danger  of  a  manuscript 
being  lost,  I  would  advise  that  a  copy  be  made  in 
every  case,  unless  the  manuscript  is  very  short  and 
of  no  particular  value. 

Manuscripts  sent  to  book  publishers  should  be 
addressed  as  follows: 


124      THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

To  the 

Editorial   Department, 
Sully  and  Kleinteich, 
373  Fourth  Avenue, 
New  York  City. 

If  the  manuscript  is  sent  to  the  editor  of  a  paper, 
magazine,  or  other  periodical,  address  it  either  to 
the  Editor,  to  the  Editorial  Department,  or  to 
some  editor  in  particular,  as  the  Literary  Editor, 
or  the  Story  Editor.  Unless  you  know  the  full 
name  of  the  editor,  or  the  head  of  the  editorial 
department,  do  not  address  the  manuscript  to  an 
individual  name,  and  it  is  generally  advisable  not 
to  do  so  anyway.  If  you  do,  write  on  the  pack- 
age a  line  somewhat  as  follows :  "  To  be  opened 
if  Mr.  John  T.  Smith  is  away." 

Manuscript  should  always  be  prepaid.  It  is  ad- 
visable to  enclose  a  letter  with  a  manuscript,  un- 
less there  are  but  a  few  pages  of  it,  directed  to 
the  Editor  or  to  the  Editorial  Department,  the 
letter  to  contain  the  salient  points  or  facts.  If  it 
is  a  true  story,  drawn  from  life,  with  living  char- 
acters, it  is  well  to  mention  it  in  the  letter;  and 


HOW  TO  SEND  A  MANUSCRIPT      125 

you  might  add  a  clause  to  the  effect  that,  al- 
though all,  or  most,  of  the  characters  are  living, 
their  names  and  locations  have  been  carefully  dis- 
guised. 

It  is  well  to  give  a  short  synopsis  of  a  long 
story,  outlining  very  briefly  the  plot  or  action. 

If  the  scene  of  the  story  is  laid,  say,  in  some 
western  mining  camp,  or  on  the  ocean,  mention  it 
in  the  letter. 

The  first  page  of  a  manuscript  should  contain 
the  title  and  the  name  and  address  of  the  writer, 
and,  besides,  a  line  reading  somewhat  as  follows: 
"  If  unavailable,  please  return  by  express,"  or 
"  Stamps  enclosed  for  return."  Write,  in  the 
upper  left-hand  comer,  approximately  the  num- 
ber of  words,  as  "  About  60,000  words." 

When  an  unavailable  manuscript  is  returned  by) 
a  publisher,  run  over  it  carefully,  and  remove  any 
marks  which  the  editor  or  reader  may  have  made. 
It  is  possible  that  a  printed  slip  of  rejection  came 
with  it.  Be  sure  to  remove  this  slip  before  send- 
ing it  to  another  publisher. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

Rejected  Manusckipts 

FOR  the  reasons  which  I  have  given  in  another 
chapter,  it  is  obvious  that  a  large  proportion, 
of  meritorious  manuscripts  will  be  rejected  by  one 
or  several  publishers. 

The  author  should  send  his  manuscript  to  the 
publisher  handling  work  of  the  class  of  his  story. 
Many  publishers  are  specialists,  and  publish  but 
one  class  of  matter.  They  will,  therefore,  reject 
a  manuscript,  no  matter  how  meritorious,  if  it  is 
out  of  their  line. 

Before  sending  a  manuscript  to  a  publisher,  ob- 
tain his  list  of  works,  and  ascertain  whether  or  not 
he  is  publishing  matter  similar  to  your  manu- 
script. If  he  is,  then  send  him  your  manuscript. 
If  he  is  not,  apply  to  another  publisher. 

If  the  publisher  returns  the  manuscript,  do  not 
consider  that  his  refusal  is  prima  facie  evidence 
that  it  is  not  worthy  of  publication.  Send  it  to 
126 


REJECTED  MANUSCRIPTS  127 

another  publisher,  and  continue  to  do  so,  until  sev- 
eral, or  even  a  dozen,  publishers  have  rejected  it. 
If  possible,  ascertain  from  each  publisher,  who 
turns  your  manuscript  down,  his  reasons  for  do- 
ing so.  If  more  than  one  reputable  publisher 
states  that  he  has  rejected  it  for  the  same  or  sim- 
ilar reasons,  it  will  be  well  for  you  to  consider  re- 
writing or  revising  it. 

If  more  than  a  dozen  first-class  publishers  con- 
sider your  manuscript  unavailable,  you  may  then 
feel  that  you  have  produced  a  manuscript  which 
either  contains  little  quality,  or  else  would  be  of 
little  or  no  interest  to  the  reading  public.  Per- 
haps rewriting  may  remedy  the  faults,  or  it  may 
be  well  for  you  to  discard  it  altogether  and  write 
another,  or  quite  likely  continued  refusal  may  in- 
dicate that  you  have  not  sufficient  ability  or  ex- 
perience to  become  an  author.  Do  not  become  dis- 
couraged until  several  publishers  have  condemned 
your  manuscript.  What  one  editor  considers 
worth  while,  another  may  reject.  And  many  pub- 
lishers have  refused  to  publish  a  manuscript  which, 
eventually,  after  it  had  found  a  publisher,  brought 
fame  and  fortune  to  its  author. 


128      THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

While  rejection  by  even  several  publishers  may 
not  be  considered  sufficient  evidence  that  the  man- 
uscript is  unworthy  of  publication,  rejection  must 
not  be  taken  as  complimentary.  The  more  pub- 
lishers who  reject  your  manuscript,  the  more  like- 
lihood there  is  that  you  have  not  produced  a  work 
of  quality,  or  a  seller. 

Attempt  to  profit  by  each  rejection.  Rewrite 
and  revise,  if  there  is  a  consensus  of  opinion  de- 
rogatory to  your  manuscript. 

Many  successful  authors  will  tell  you  that  they 
were  able  readily  to  sell  rejected  manuscripts  after 
they  had  obtained  a  reputation.  While  this  is 
very  soothing  to  the  author  of  a  rejected  manu- 
script, it  must  not  be  taken  as  evidence  that  the 
rejected  manuscripts  of  famous  authors  should 
not  have  been  turned  down. 

So  long  as  bo9ks  will  continue  to  sell,  not  wholly 
by  merit,  but  by  the  reputation  of  their  authors,  it 
is  obvious  that  the  publisher  can  profitably  place 
upon  the  market  a  book  by  a  popular  author, 
which  he  would  not  publish  if  it  were  not  for  the 
author's  reputation. 


CHAPTER  XXin 
The  Size  op  a  Book 

FORMERLY  the  pages  of  all  books  conformed 
to  certain  sizes,  which  were  considered  stand- 
ard; but  at  the  present  time,  although  these 
standard  sizes  remain,  page  dimensions  vary  to 
suit  conditions,  and  the  old  standard  sizes  are  not 
altogether  adhered  to. 

The  standard  size  of  a  book  was  based  upon  a 
sheet  of  paper  twenty-five  by  thirty-eight  inches, 
or  rather  upon  half  this  size,  or  nineteen  by 
twenty-five  inches. 

When  the  paper  or  half-sheet  is  cut  so  as  to 
make  four  leaves,  the  book  is  known  as  a  quarto 
(4to) ;  when  cut  into  eight  leaves,  octavo  (8vo) ; 
when  cut  into  twelve  leaves,  duodecimo  (12  mo) ; 
eighteen  leaves  being  known  as  18  mo. ;  and  twenty- 
four  leaves  being  designated  as  24  mo. 

The  usual  novels  and  books  of  fiction,  includ- 
129 


130     THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

ing  many  text-books  and  other  works,  are  duo- 
decimo or  octavo. 

The  thickness  of  a  book  is,  of  course,  depend- 
ent upon  its  number  of  pages  and  the  thickness  of 
the  paper  used.  Some  publishers  use  a  thin  and 
yet  opaque  paper,  while  others  prefer  what  is 
known  as  regular  book  paper,  a  stock  with  a  soft 
surface.  The  size  of  type  used  further  deter- 
mines the  bulkiness  of  the  book. 

Roman  type  is  invariably  used  for  the  text  of 
all  books,  except  a  few  in  which  a  fancy  letter  ap- 
pears ;  but  as  Roman  type  is  more  familiar  to  the 
reader  than  is  any  other  face,  and  is  easier  to 
read,  Roman  is  given  the  preference,  and  com- 
paratively few  books  are  set  in  other  than  this 
face. 

The  type  lines  in  most  books  are  leaded;  that 
is,  the  lines  of  type  are  not  set  close  together, 
and  there  is  a  space  between  them.  The  follow- 
ing paragraphs  present  standard  faces  of  type 
used  in  books: 

This  paragraph  is  set  in  Twelve  Point  or 
Pica  type,  which  is  the  largest  size  usually 


THE  SIZE  OF  A  BOOK  131 

appearing  in  books,  the  majority  of  books 
being  set  in  smaller  type. 

This  paragraph  is  set  in  Eleven  Point  or  Small 
Pica,  which  is  the  usual  size  in  novels  and  works 
of  fiction,  and  for  many  textbooks.  It  is  prob- 
ably the  most   readable   size. 

This  paragraph  is  set  in  Ten  Point  or  Long  Primer, 
a  size  which  appears  usually  in  paper-covered  books, 
and  not  infrequently  in  those  which  are  cloth-boimd. 

This  paragraph  is  set  hi  Eight  Point  or  Brevier.  It  Is 
not  much  used  in  cloth-bound  books,  but  sometimes  appears 
in  textboolcs  and  in  those  which  are  paper-covered.  It  is 
qoito  readabAe^  if  leaded,  or  when  the  type  width  is 
shorter  than  that  of  the  average  book  published. 


This  paragraph  la  set  in  Six  Point  or  Nonpareil.  This  slse 
is  used  for  Indexes,  and  frequently  In  Bibles  and  encyclo- 
pedias. It  Is  not  to  be  recommended,  except  when  the  type 
width  does  not  exceed  two  and  a  half  inches.  Newspapers 
are  set  in  this  size. 

This  pararraph  is  set  In  FWe-and-a-half  Point  or  Airate,  and  Is 
used  principally  for  Bibles  and  other  closely  printed  books,  wher« 
the  column  or  i>aKe  measure  Is  very  narrow.  Most  of  the 
"  want "  or  classified  advertisements  appearing  In  the  newspapers 
are  set  in  this  sise,  and  It  Is  a  standard  basis  of  advertising-space 
measure.  Practically  all  publications,  except  the  country  week- 
Mes.  sell  their  advertising  space  at  so  much  per  Agate  line,  single 
column  measurement,  Irrespective  of  the  size  of  type  used  in  the 
advertisement.     Fourteen   Agate   lines  make  one   inch  of  depth. 


13a     THE  AUT  OF  STORY  WRITING 

There  are  several  faces  of  Roman,  commercially 
known  by  arbitrary  names,  like  Scotch  Roman, 
Century,  Clearface,  etc. 

Most  books  are  set  in  what  are  known  as  Mod- 
ern and  Old  Style  Roman.  The  letters  in  the 
former  are  somewhat  shaded,  that  is  to  say,  the 
lines  are  not  of  the  same  width,  while  those 
in  the  latter  are  practically  the  same.  Old  Style 
Roman  is  used  more  than  is  Modern,  but  either 
is  very  readable. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 
The  Number  of  Words  in  a  Book 

THERE  18  no  standard  rule  controlling  the 
number  of  words  in  a  book,  because  books 
maj  be  of  any  size,  and  any  size  of  type  may  be 
used,  if  it  is  not  larger  than  what  is  known  as 
Twelve  Point,  nor  smaller  than  what  is  called 
Six  Point. 

The  average  novel,  or  work  of  fiction,  contains 
rather  more  than  fifty  thousand  words,  although 
some  of  them  are  of  not  exceeding  forty  thousand 
words,  while  others  require  as  much  as  seventy- 
five  thousand,  or  even  more,  words,  for  the 
proper  working  out  of  the  plot. 

Comparatively  few  book  publishers,  how- 
ever, will  publish  a  story  or  novel  containing  much 
less  than  fifty  thousand  words,  because  few 
novels  are  sold  for  less  than  a  dollar,  and  most  of 
them  are  priced  at  a  dollar  and  twenty-five  cents 

or  a  dollar  and   a  half,   and  it   is  commercially 
133 


1S4      THE  ART  OI!  STORY  WRITING 

necessary  to  publish  a  book  containing  as  many 
as  three  hundred  pages,  which  would  not  be  pos- 
sible with  much  less  than  fifty  thousand  words, 
unless  unusually  large  type  was  used. 

The  author  should  bear  in  mind  that  quantity 
as  well  as  quality  must  be  considered.  The  pub- 
lic demands  both.  It  is  sometimes  difficult  to  sell 
a  book,  even  though  it  be  unusually  meritorious, 
if  it  does  not  contain  at  least  three  hundred  pages, 
unless  it  is  to  be  retailed  for  less  than  one  dollar. 
Intrinsic  quality,  while  the  first  requisite,  is  not 
independent  of  the  appearance  of  quantity. 

The  whole  world,  including  the  reader,  is  con- 
ventional, and  will  not  accept  anything  out  of  the 
ordinary  unless  it  is  extraordinary.  If  it  pays  a 
dollar  for  a  book,  it  demands  the  appearance  of  a 
dollar's  worth  of  paper  and  printed  matter. 

Stories  for  children,  however,  are  usually  set  in 
Twelve  Point  type,  and  sometimes  in  one  or  two 
sizes  larger,  and  they  may  contain  as  few  as  ten 
or  fifteen  thousand  words. 

Textbooks  vary  from  forty  to  one  hundred 
thousand  words,  exclusive  of  illustrations,  charts, 
maps,  or  diagrams. 


NUMBER  OF  WORDS  IN  A  BOOK      135 

The  paper-covered  editions  seldom  contain  less 
than  fifty  thousand  words,  and  from  that  up  to  a 
hundred  thousand. 

If  the  finished  manuscript  contains  too  few,  or 
too  many,  words,  the  author  had  better  bring  it 
up  or  down  to  an  acceptable  size ;  but  he  may,  if  he 
chooses,  submit  the  manuscript  to  the  publisher, 
accompanying  it  with  a  letter  stating  that  he 
would  be  pleased  to  add  to  it,  or  to  condense  it,  if 
the  publisher  desires. 

If  all  of  the  pages  of  a  manuscript  contain  ap< 
proximately  the  same  number  of  words,  it  is  easy 
for  the  author  to  size  up  his  work,  so  to  speak,  as 
he  goes  along.  While  the  number  of  words  per 
page  will  vary  somewhat,  the  average  page  of 
manuscript  will  contain  not  less  than  two  hundred 
nor  more  than  three  hundred  words,  if  typewrit- 
ten.    I  have  spoken  of  this  in  another  chapter. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

How  A  Manusceipt  is  Received  and  Handled 
By  a  Book  Publisheb, 

THE  book  publisher  maintains  an  editorial  de- 
partment in  charge  of  an  editor-in-chief  and 
his  assistants,  and  with  one  or  more  literary  ad- 
visers. 

Further,  most  book  publishers  employ  what  are 
known  as  "  Readers,"  who  receive  a  stated  salary 
or  fees.  These  readers  are  usually  literary  men 
or  women,  many  of  them  being  retired  ministers, 
lawyers,  or  other  professionals,  and  they  read  at 
their  homes  the  manuscripts  submitted  to  them. 
Unless  the  editor,  or  one  of  his  assistants,  by  a 
casual  glance  at  the  manuscript,  feels  that  it  is 
not  available,  he  sends  it  to  one  of  his  readers. 
The  reader  is  supposed  to  read  every  word  of  the 
manuscript,  and  he  may  do  so,  unless  a  casual 
perusal  of  it  shows  that  it  is  worthless  or  not 
available. 

136 


HANDLING  A  MANUSCRIPT        137 

After  reading,  he  returns  the  manuscript  to  the 
publisher,  with  his  recommendations,  and  he  prob- 
ably turns  down,  with  short  comment,  nine  out  of 
every  ten  manuscripts  he  receives.  The  others  he 
recommends  the  publication  of,  either  positively  or 
«tates  that  they  are  worthy  of  further  considera- 
tion. 

Unless  the  author  is  well-known,  the  chances  are 
that  his  manuscript  would  not  get  beyond  the  first 
reader,  if  this  reader  condemns  it.  If  its  publica- 
tion 18  recommended,  or  if  the  reader  feels  that  it 
merits  further  consideration,  it  may  be  read  by  the 
editor-in-chief  or  by  one  of  his  assistants,  or  by 
the  literary  adviser;  but  the  chances  are  it  will  be 
sent  to  another  reader.  If  his  report  is  favor- 
able, it  will  go  to  the  editorial  department  for  final 
decision.  If  one  reader  recommends  it,  and  an- 
other condemns  it,  it  will  probably  be  sent  to  a 
third  reader. 

It  has  been  said,  and  with  much  truth,  that  it  is 
well-nigh  impossible  to  diagnose  the  real  or  sell- 
ing value  of  a  manuscript  with  more  than  a  mod- 
erate degree  of  accuracy. 

Thousands  of  manuscripts,  which  have  been  re- 


138      THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

jected  by  both  readers  and  editors,  have  become 
successful,  other  publishing  houses  considering" 
them  favorably.  Rejection  by  one  publisher,  or 
even  by  several,  need  not,  therefore,  be  considered 
prima  facie  evidence  that  the  manuscript  is  unwor- 
thy of  publication. 

I  recall  one  manuscript  in  particular,  written  by 
an  author  comparatively  unknown,  which  was  re- 
jected by  more  than  a  dozen  publishers,  and  yet 
became  an  unqualified  success,  more  than  one  hun- 
dred thousand  copies  being  sold. 

It  is  obvious  that  individual  judgment  is  often 
faulty,  and  that  many  a  good  thing  is  rejected. 
I  would  not,  however,  advise  the  author  to  submit 
his  manuscript  to  more  than  a  dozen  publishers, 
without  rewriting  it;  because  I  think  it  is  fair  to 
presume  that  if  that  number  of  reputable  pub- 
lishers refuse  it,  the  manuscript  contains  too  many 
faults  to  be  successfully  put  upon  the  market. 

Because  human  nature,  and  even  expertness, 
cannot  always  be  depended  upon,  rejection  is  the 
rule,  not  the  exception. 

Comparatively  few  new  writers  succeed  in  plac- 
ing their  manuscripts,  even  if  they  are  meritorious. 


HANDLING  A  MANUSCRIPT         139 

with  the  first  two  or  three  publishers  to  whom  they 
are  submitteA  Many  a  reader  will  allow  his  in- 
digestion or  personal  feelings  to  warp  his  judg- 
ment. If  he  is  suffering  from  a  bilious  attack,  he 
may  reject  a  manuscript  which  he  would  recom- 
mend if  he  were  feeling  well. 

All  literary  men,  and  particularly  readers,  are 
more  or  less  biased,  and  allow  their  personal  likes 
and  dislikes  to  interfere  with  their  judgment. 
This  condition  cannot  be  avoided,  and  the  author 
must  meet  it. 

Then,  even  with  the  recommendation  of  one  or 
more  readers,  the  editor  or  publisher  may  refuse 
to  accept  the  manuscript,  either  because  his  judg- 
ment does  not  coincide  with  that  of  the  reader's  or 
the  literary  adviser's,  or  because  the  plot  or  char- 
acter of  the  story  is  opposed  to  his  jK)licy.  For 
example,  the  first-class  story  of  adventure  may  be 
rejected  by  some  publishers,  not  because  it  is  not 
well  written  and  worthy  of  publication,  but  be- 
cause the  publisher  does  not  carry  books  of  its 
class.  Another  publisher  would  gladly  accept  it. 
Then,  most  book  publishers  limit  the  number  of 
books  they  will  publish  in  a  year.     Their  list  may 


140      THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

be  fuU,  and  they  will  not  consider  the  publication 
of  any  manuscript  unless  it  is  of  unusual  quality. 
But  the  manuscript,  rejected  by  them,  may  be  ac- 
ceptable to  the  one  who  is  looking  for  a  new  manu- 
script. 

There  may  be  other  reasons  for  rejecting  a  man- 
uscript, irrespective  of  its  literary  quality.  It  is 
obvious  that  the  book  publisher  is  in  business  for 
profit,  and  that  he  will  not  publish  a  manuscript 
at  his  own  expense,  unless  there  appears  to  be  good 
reason  to  believe  that  it  is  a  money-maker.  In 
another  chapter,  I  have  discussed  the  publication 
of  book  manuscripts  at  the  expense  of  the  author. 

While  the  final  decision  may  be  left  to  the  editor- 
in-chief,  many  publishers  have  the  final  word,  un- 
less the  editor  is  a  member  of  the  firm. 

If  the  manuscript  is  accepted,  the  author  is  no- 
tified, and  a  contract  is  made  with  him.  In  an- 
other chapter  I  have  spoken  of  contracts. 

The  author  may  be  requested  to  condense  his 
manuscript,  or  to  enlarge  it,  or  to  make  changes 
mutually  agreeable  to  both  the  publisher  and  him- 
self. Certain  parts  may  have  to  be  omitted,  some 
chapters   rewritten,   and  descriptions  lengthened; 


HANDLING  A  MANUSCRIPT        141 

but  these  conditions  do  not  interfere  materially 
with  the  acceptance  of  the  manuscript.  If  the 
story,  as  a  whole,  pleases  the  publisher,  and  he  be* 
lieves  he  can  publish  it  to  advantage,  he  will  accept 
the  manuscript,  subject  to  changes  which  may  be 
agreed  upon. 

The  author  is  notified,  and  if  living  nearby,  he  is 
invited  to  call.  If  not,  negotiations  are  made  by 
mail. 

He  is  given  a  written  contract,  in  which  terms 
are  specified. 

The  manuscript  then  goes  to  the  manufactur- 
ing department,  which,  with  or  without  consulting 
the  author,  will  arrange  for  the  typesetting,  and 
specify  the  size  of  page,  and  the  illustrations,  if 
any.  In  another  chapter,  I  have  covered  illustra- 
tions. 

In  the  course  of  time,  galley  proofs  are  sent  the 
author.  Galley  proofs  are  proofs  taken  on  long 
strips  of  paper,  about  two  feet  in  length,  and  rep- 
resent the  width,  but  not  the  length,  of  the  page. 
These  the  author  will  read,  correct,  and  return  to 
the  publisher.  I  have  spoken  of  proofs  in  another 
chapter.     After   the   proofs  have  been  read  and 


U2     THE  ART  OI'  STORY  WRITING 

corrected,  the  book  is  printed  and  bound,  brass  dies 
usually  being  made  for  the  cover. 

The  table  of  contents  and  index  are  set  last. 
Usually  the  author  includes  in  his  manuscript  a 
table  of  contents,  and  an  index,  if  one  is  necessary. 

It  is  obvious,  however,  that  the  table  of  con- 
tents and  index  should  not  be  set  until  the  book 
is  in  type  and  paged,  as  the  page  numbers  can- 
not be  given  until  this  is  done. 

The  book  is  then  placed  upon  the  market,  usually^ 
with  advertising.  The  publisher  issues  a  special 
announcement  of  it,  if  it  be  a  work  of  importance, 
and  mention  is  made  in  his  catalogue,  or  list  of 
books.  Copies  are  usually  sent  to  literary  papers, 
newspapers,  and  magazines,  for  review.  An- 
nouncements are  sent  to  the  trade,  or  to  book- 
stores, and  the  book  is  then  fairly  launched,  to 
swim  or  to  sink  on  the  stormy  sea  of  literature. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 
Terms  foe  the  Publication  of  Books 

THE  business  or  contract  relations  between  au- 
thors and  reputable  book  publishers  are  sub- 
stantially as  follows: 

First :  The  usual  form  of  contract  between  the 
book  publisher  and  the  author  requires  the  pub- 
lisher to  bear  the  entire  expense  of  putting  the 
book  upon  the  market,  including  the  setting  of 
the  type,  the  making  of  the  electrotype  plates,  the 
binding,  the  advertising,  and  the  expense  of  sell- 
ing. The  author  contributes  only  his  manuscript, 
and  bears  no  part  of  the  cost  of  publication. 

The  majority  of  books  are  pi^lished  under  this 
agreement.  The  author  receives  what  is  known 
as  a  royalty,  in  nearly  every  case  based  upon  the 
retail  or  list  price  of  the  book,  irrespective  of  whafl 
the  publisher  may  receive  for  it.  For  example :  if 
the  book  is  listed  and  sells  at  retail  at,  say,  one 
dollar  and  a  half  net,  or  one  dollar  and  a  half 
143 


144?      THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

gross,  the  author  receives  ten  per  cent,  of  a  dollar 
and  a  half,  or  fifteen  cents,  for  every  copy  sold. 
But  no  royalty  or  percentage  is  paid  upon  copies 
given  away  for  advertising  or  selling  purposes. 
The  author  receives  ten  or  twelve  copies  free,  and 
must  pay  the  wholesale  or  trade  price  for  addi- 
tional ones.  Books  listed,  say,  at  one  dollar  net, 
are  sold  to  other  publishers  and  to  booksellers  at 
seventy-five  cents,  or  twenty-five  per  cent,  off  the 
list  price. 

If  the  book  is  listed,  say,  at  one  dollar,  without 
the  word  "  net "  following  the  price,  the  price  is 
considered  gross,  and  the  trade  may  purchase  this 
book  at  thirty-three  and  a  third  per  cent,  off  the 
list  or  retail  price,  sometimes  at  forty  per  cent, 
discount.  But  the  author,  in  most  cases,  receives 
his  full  ten  per  cent,  on  the  so-called  list  or  retail 
price,  whether  it  be  net  or  gross. 

If  the  author  is  unknown,  the  publisher  may 
not  pay  him  any  royalty  until  a  thousand  or  more 
copies  have  been  sold,  which  will  be  sufficient  to 
cover  the  expense  of  publication. 

If  the  author  has  a  reputation,  he  may  make 
a  contract  with  the  publisher  to  receive  ten  per 


TERMS  FOR  THE  PUBLICATION      145 

cent,  on  all  books  sold,  up  to  a  specified  number, 
say,  from  two  to  five  thousand;  and  twelve  and  a 
half  per  cent,  on  all  copies  sold  in  excess  of  that 
number. 

A  lower  royalty  is  usually  paid  on  copies  sold 
out  of  the  country. 

Occasionally  the  publisher  will  pay  as  high  as 
fifteen  per  cent,  royalty  to  a  popular  author  after 
from  ten  to  fifteen  thousand  copies  have  been  sold. 

Secondly :  If  the  character  of  the  book  is  such 
that  its  sale  would  presumably  be  small,  and  prob- 
ably not  sufficient  to  pay  the  cost  of  publication 
and  a  fair  profit  to  the  publisher,  or  if  the  sale  is 
largely  problematical,  the  reputable  publisher 
may  refuse  to  publish  tlie  book  unless  the  whole 
or  part  of  the  expenses  of  publication  are  guaran- 
teed by  the  author. 

Thousands  of  manuscripts  of  intrinsic  value 
and  merit  are  presented  to  publishers,  and  yet  the 
subject-matter  may  not  be  sufficiently  popular  for 
an  extensive  sale,  or  the  book  may  be  of  a  his- 
torical or  scientific  character,  appealing  to  only 
a  limited  class  of  readers. 

The  publisher,  then,  is  justified  in  requiring  a 


146      THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

guarantee  from  the  author,  covering  the  whole 
or  part  of  the  expense  of  publication,  the  author 
agreeing  to  pay  this  sum  before  publication,  or 
bind  himself  to  purchase  a  specified  number  of 
books.  In  this  case  the  publisher  becomes  vir- 
tually the  agent  of  the  author,  and  the  publisher, 
in  return,  pays  the  author  a  royalty  or  percent- 
age on  the  retail  price  of  the  book  considerably 
larger  than  is  given  in  the  first  instance. 

The  expense  of  publishing  a  book,  including  an- 
nouncements and  advertising  of  it,  runs  from  five 
hundred  to  several  thousand  dollars,  but  the  aver- 
age story  book  or  novel  can  be  placed  on  the  mar- 
ket for  from  seven  hundred  and  fifty  to  a  thou- 
sand dollars. 

If  the  publisher  feels  that  the  book  is  going 
to  sell  readily,  he  is  not  likely  to  make  an  arrange- 
ment with  the  author  other  than  on  a  purely 
royalty  basis,  the  publisher  to  pay  aU  of  the  ex- 
penses. 

A  reputable  publisher  will  not  publish  a  book 
which  does  not  contain  merit,  even  at  the  author'^ 
expense.  If  it  is  a  work  of  value,  and  yet  would 
meet  probably   with  a  limited  scale,  he  may  be 


TERMS  FOR  THE  PUBLICATION      147* 

willing  to  publish  it,  if  the  author  pays  the  whole 
or  part  of  the  cost  of  publication.  But  the  pub- 
lisher will  be  very  frank  with  the  author,  and  fully 
explain  the  situation  to  him. 

Practically  all  large  sellers  are  published 
wholly  at  the  expense  of  their  publishers. 

In  another  chapter  I  have  warned  the  author 
against  publishing  charlatans,  who  feed  upon 
credulous  authors,  and  who  obtain  their  profit  en- 
tirely out  of  what  the  author  pays  as  a  guaranty, 
the  publisher  making  little  or  no  effort  to  sell  the 
books. 

Thirdly:  Occasionally,  but  very  infrequently, 
the  publisher  buys  the  manuscript  outright,  or 
pays  the  author  a  definite  sum  upon  publication, 
with  a  small  royalty. 

Authors  of  books  which  are  reasonably  sure  to 
become  large  sellers  may  obtain  what  is  known 
as  advance  royalty  upon  delivering  the  manu- 
script, or  at  the  publication  of  the  book,  the  sum 
advanced  to  be  deducted  from  future  royalties. 

If  the  right  of  translation  is  reserved,  the  au- 
thor shares  in  the  profits  to  the  extent  agreed 
upon.     He  also  participates  in  the  profits  if  the 


148      THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

book  is  dramatized,  unless  an  agreement  is  made  to 
the  contrary. 

If  the  book  appears  after  pubhcation  as  syn- 
dicate matter  in  the  newspapers,  the  author  re- 
ceives, as  an  extra  remuneration,  the  amount 
agreed  upon  or  to  be  agreed  upon.  He  may,  if 
agreeable  to  the  publisher,  retain  the  syndicate  or 
dramatic  rights. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 
Contracts  with  Book  Publishers 

THE  book  publisher  has  a  printed  contract, 
containing  blanks  to  be  filled  out,  which  he 
executes  in  duplicate,  he  and  the  author  signing 
both  copies.  These  contracts  are  very  much  alike 
in  substance. 

The  publisher  agrees  to  publish  the  book  under 
the  conditions  specified,  either  at  his  own  expense 
or  wholly  or  partially  at  the  expense  of  the  au- 
thor. According  to  the  contract,  the  publisher  is 
to  furnish  the  author,  without  charge,  ten  or 
twelve  complete  copies  of  the  book,  the  author  be- 
ing permitted  to  purchase  additional  copies  at  the 
trade  or  wholesale  price. 

The  name  of  the  book  is  specified  in  the  con- 
tract, but  is  usually  followed  by  a  clause  reading 
somewhat  as  follows :  *'  Or  other  title  which  may 
be  mutually  agreed  upon."  Many  books  are  pub- 
lished under  a  title  which  does  not  appear  in  the 

149 


150      THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

contract,  a  better  one  being  chosen  after  the  con- 
tract is  made. 

The  publisher  usually  agrees,  in  the  contract, 
to  stand  the  cost  of  author's  corrections  up  to  a 
specified  amount,  usually  twenty-five  dollars,  or 
ten  per  cent,  of  the  original  cost  of  composition. 
For  example:  Let  us  suppose  that  in  setting  the 
book  the  publisher  incurs  an  expense  of  five  hun- 
dred dollars.  The  author  is,  then,  permitted  to 
make  corrections  and  alterations  upon  the  proofs 
up  to  ten  per  cent,  of  five  hundred  dollars,  or 
fifty  dollars.  All  corrections  made  by  the  author, 
after  the  book  is  set,  in  excess  of  the  amount  al- 
lowed, must  be  paid  by  the  author.  I  have 
spoken  of  author's  corrections  in  another  chap- 
ter. 

The  majority  of  contracts  remunerate  the  au- 
thor by  paying  him  a  royalty  either  on  the  retail 
or  list  price  of  the  book,  or  on  the  wholesale  price, 
usually  the  former.  This  percentage  is  about 
six  per  cent,  on  text-books,  or  schoolbooks,  and 
about  ten  per  cent,  on  other  works.  (See  the 
chapter,  "  Terms  for  the  Publication  of  Books.") 

The  usual  contract  has  in  it  a  clause  to  the 


CONTRACTS  WITH  PUBLISHERS     151 

effect  that  if  the  publisher  fails  to  keep  the  book 
upon  the  market,  the  copyright  ownership  is,  by 
this  failure  alone,  transferred  to  the  author. 
The  author,  then,  may,  if  he  will,  arrange  with 
another  publisher  for  the  republication  of  the 
book,  or  put  it  to  any  other  use,  for  by  default 
on  the  part  of  the  publisher  it  becomes  his  prop- 
erty. The  publisher,  however,  retains  the  electro- 
type plates,  the  cover  dies,  and  the  illustrations. 
The  author  has  no  right  to  them,  unless  he  pur- 
chases them  of  the  publisher. 

The  following  forms  of  contracts  are  presented 
as  representative  of  those  used  by  the  better  class 
of  book  publishers.  The  words  printed  in  Italics 
represent  the  portions  to  be  filled  in  specifically 
in  each  case: 

MEMORANDUM  OF  AGREEMENT  made 
this  first  day  of  January,  A.  D.  1913,  by  and  be- 
tween 

George  T.  Smithy  party  of  the  first  part, 
and  The  Massachusetts  Publishing  Company,  of 
Boston,  Massachusetts,  Booksellers  and  Publish- 
ers, party  of  the  second  part. 


152      THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

The  said  George  T,  Smith  in  consideration  of 
the  agreements  of  the  said  The  Massachusetts 
Publishing  Company,  hereinafter  contained, 
hereby  agree  with  them,  and  their  representatives 
and  assigns,  that  he  will  properly  prepare  for  the 
press  a  work  to  be  entitled 

The  Ups  and  Downs  of  Life  (title  subject  to 
change  by  mutual  agreement).  That  the  said 
The  Massachusetts  Publishing  Company  are  au- 
thorized to  copyright  said  work  in  their  own  name 
or  in  the  name  of  said  Smith,  and  to  procure  any 
renewal  of  same  for  the  said  Smith  or  his  heirs; 
that  the  expense  of  procuring  copyright  is  to 
be  borne  by  the  said  Smith;  that  the  said  book 
shall  not  violate  or  infringe  any  copyright  of 
others,  and  that  he  will,  at  his  own  expense,  pro- 
tect and  defend  said  book  from  any  adverse  claims 
that  said  book  infringes  any  copyright,  and  he 
will  indemnify  and  save  harmless  said  The  Massa- 
chusetts Publishing  Company  from  all  damage, 
costs,  and  expenses  arising  to  them  by  reason  of 
any  such  infringement  or  claims  that  the  said 
book  infringes  any  copyright;  that  he  will  license 
and  allow  the  said  The  Massachusetts  Publishing 


CONTRACTS  WITH  PUBLISHERS     153 

Company  and  their  representatives  and  assigns, 
but  no  other  party  or  parties,  to  print,  publish, 
and  sell  the  aforesaid  book,  and  any  revisions  of 
the  same,  in  such  editions  as  the  demand  may  re- 
quire, during  the  continuance  of  any  copyrights 
or  renewals  thereof  which  may  be  obtained  there- 
for,—  provided,  however,  that  the  said  The  Mas- 
sachusetts Publishing  Company,  and  their  rep- 
resentatives and  assigns,  shall  in  substantial  good 
faith  keep  and  perform  their  agreements  herein- 
after contained ; —  and  that  during  the  continu- 
ance of  the  exclusive  rights  hereby  granted,  he 
will  with  all  reasonable  diligence  superintend,  in 
the  usual  manner  of  authors,  the  preparation  for 
the  press  of  any  new  edition  thereof ;  and  will  not 
prepare,  edit,  or  cause  to  be  published  in  his  name 
or  otherwise,  anything  which  may  injure  or  inter- 
fere with  the  sale  of  the  aforesaid  book. 

The  said  The  Massachusetts  Publishing  Com- 
pany, in  consideration  of  the  foregoing  agree- 
ments of  the  said  George  T.  Smith,  hereby  agree 
on  their  part  that  they  will,  after  the  delivery 
to  them  of  the  manuscript  thereof  as  aforesaid, 
secure  a  good  and  valid  copyright  thereof,  and 


154      THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

print  and  publish  an  edition  of  said  book,  ten 
copies  of  which  they  will  deliver  to  the  said  Smith 
for  his  own  use  without  charge;  that  they  will  en- 
deavor to  secure  the  sale  of  all  editions  published 
by  them;  that  they  will  pay  unto  the  said  Smith 
or  his  representatives  or  assigns,  a  royalty  of  ten 
per  cent,  of  the  published  price  of  said  book,  in 
the  usual  cloth  and  paper  covers  respectively.  An 
account  of  copies  sold  up  to  the  first  day  of  Jan- 
uary and  to  the  first  day  of  July  of  each  year 
shall  be  made  up  semi-annually  and  royalties 
therefor  paid  to  the  said  Smith  within  thirty 
days  from  the  first  day  of  February  and  of  Au- 
gust of  each  year. 

{Other  conditions  appear  here,) 

It  is  further  agreed  that  from  any  sum  to  be 
paid  to  the  said  Smith  shall  first  be  deducted  the 

cost  of  any   alterations   or   corrections   exceeding 

* 

ten  per  cent,  of  the  cost  of  first  setting  up  the 
type  made  by  the  said  Smith  in  said  book,  after 
the  portion  altered  or  corrected  is  in  type.  It  is 
understood  and  agreed  that  such  copies  as  may  be 
given  to  the  said  Smith  and  such  other  copies  as 


CONTRACTS  WITH  PUBLISHERS     155 

may  be  used  for  presentation  to  editors  and  others 
for  the  purpose  of  obtaining  reviews  and  notices, 
or  otherwise  to  promote  the  sale  of  the  book, 
shall  be  free  from  royalty.  The  publishers  shall 
sell  to  the  author  any  copies  of  said  book  which 
he  may  wish  for  his  own  purposes,  at  as  low  a  rate 
as  they  sell  similar  quantities  to  the  general 
trade.  It  is  further  agreed  by  and  between  the 
parties  hereto,  that  if  at  the  expiration  of  three 
years  from  the  date  of  publication,  or  later,  the 
publishers  shall  determine  that  there  is  not  suf- 
ficient sale  for  the  work  to  enable  them  to  profit- 
ably continue  its  publication  and  sale,  then  they 
shall  be  privileged  to  dispose  of  the  copies  remain- 
ing on  hand,  as  they  deem  best,  free  of  copyright 
(it  being  understood  that  the  party  of  the  first 
part  shall  have  the  option  of  taking  said  copies 
at  cost  of  manufacture).  It  is  further  under- 
stood and  agreed  that  upon  all  copies  of  said  book 
sold  outside  of  the  United  States  the  royalty  shall 
be  five  per  cent,  of  the  published  price,  and  it  is 
also  agreed  that  upon  any  edition  published  for 
schools   and   supplementary   reading   the   royalty 


156     THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

shall  be  six  per  cent,  of  the  published  price.  It 
is  further  agreed  that  the  said  The  Massachu- 
setts Publishing  Company  shall  have  the  sole  right 
to  give  permission  to  print  or  publish  extracts 
from  the  said  work,  and  to  arrange  for  its  serial 
publication  in  newspapers  or  other  periodical  pub- 
lications, but  that  any  sums  derived  from  the  same 
shall  be  equally  divided  between  the  parties  of  the 
first  and  second  part,  also  that  no  dramatization 
of  the  said  work  shall  be  made  unless  the  parties 
of  the  first  and  second  part  shall  jointly  con- 
sent thereto,  and  that  in  the  event  of  such 
dramatization  being  produced  all  sums  received 
therefor  shall  be  paid  to  the  said  The  Massachu- 
setts Publishing  Company  and  shared  equally 
with  the  party  of  the  first  part,  payments  to  be 
made  semi-annually  by  the  said  The  Massachu- 
setts Publishing  Company  within  thirty  days  from 
the  first  day  of  February  and  of  August  of  each 
year. 

{Further  conditions  may  he  written  here,) 

IN  WITNESS  WHEREOF   the  said  parties 
have  hereto,   and  to   another  instrument   of  like 


CONTRACTS  WITH  PUBLISHERS     151 

tenor,    set    their   hands   the   day    and   year   first 
written. 

The  Massachusetts  Publishing  Co., 

By  William  R.  Black,  President, 
George  T.  Smith. 

THIS  AGREEMENT  made  this  first  day  of 
January,  1913,  by  and  between  George  T,  Smith 
of  Boston,  Mass,,  party  of  the  first  part,  herein- 
after called  the  author,  and  The  New  York  Pub- 
lishing Company,  a  corporation  organized  and  do- 
ing business  under  and  by  virtue  of  the  laws  of 
the  State  of  New  York,  party  of  the  second  part, 
hereinafter  called  the  fubusheb,  witnesseth: 

WHEREAS,  the  said  party  of  the  first  part  is 
the  author  and  owner  of  a  manuscript  entitled 
The  Career  of  a  Lawyer,  or  any  other  title  which 
may  be  mutually  agreed  upon,  and  desires  to  pub- 
lish the  same  upon  the  terms  and  under  the  con- 
ditions hereinafter  set  forth,  and  the  party  of 
the  second  part  desires  upon  the  said  terms  and 
conditions  to  publish  said  work.  Now,  therefore, 
it  is  mutually  agreed,  as  follows: 

Said   AUTHOR   hereby    gives    and   grants    unto 


158     THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

the  said  pubusher,  its  successors  and  assigns, 
the  exclusive  right  and  license  to  publish,  print, 
and  sell  the  aforesaid  work,  and  any  revision 
thereof,  in  all  book  forms  during  the  term  of 
copyright  and  renewals  thereof. 

Said  AUTHOR  hereby  covenants  with  the  said 
PUBLISHER  that  he  is  the  sole  author  and  proprie- 
tor of  the  said  work,  and  hereby  authorizes  said 
PUBLISHER  to  take  out  in  its  own  name  the  copy- 
right on  said  work  in  the  United  States  and  Great 
Britain,  but  it  is  understood  and  expressly  agreed 
that  the  ownership  of  said  copyright,  subject  to 
the  license  hereby  granted,  shall  belong  to  the  said 

AUTHOR. 

The  said  publisher  agrees  upon  its  part  to 
print  and  publish  said  manuscript  in  book  form, 
at  its  own  expense,  in  such  style  and  manner,  and 
in  such  quantity,  as  it  deems  most  expedient,  and 
to  sell  the  same  at  a  retail  or  catalogue  price  of 
071^  dollar,  and  agrees  to  manage  the  sale  and  dis- 
tribution of  said  book,  and  the  advertising  and 
general  publicity  of  the  same,  and  to  care  for  the 
distribution  of  the  editorial  copies  thereof,  and 
agrees  to  pay  to  said  author  a  royalty  of  ten 


CONTRACTS  WITH  PUBLISHERS     159 

per  cent,  upon  the  retail  or  catalogue  price  of  all 
copies  of  said  book  sold  in  the  United  States,  and 
it  is  expressly  agreed  that  no  royalty  or  percent- 
age whatever  shall  be  paid  upon  any  copies  de- 
stroyed by  fire  or  water,  or  otherwise,  or  sold  at 
or  below  cost,  or  given  away  for  the  purpose  of 
aiding  in  the  sale  of  said  work,  and  provided, 
further,  that  if  conditions  shall  arise  whereby  it 
becomes  necessary  to  reduce  an  overstock  of  said 
books  or  to  close  out  an  unsalable  remainder  of 
sheets  or  bound  books,  the  said  pubusher  shall 
have  the  right  to  dispose  of  such  stock  at  such 
price  as  it  deems  desirable,  and  no  royalty  shall 
be  paid  upon  such  sales.  If,  however,  a  regular 
catalogue  reduction  in  the  price  of  said  book  shall 
be  made,  the  author's  royalty  is  to  continue  and 
apply  upon  the  above  percentage  basis  on  such 
reduced  price. 

It  is  understood  and  agreed  that  said  pub- 
lisher shall  be  allowed  a  reasonable  latitude  in 
making  alterations  in  proof  of  said  book,  which 
are  changes  from  the  manuscript.  The  said 
PUBUSHER  shall  bear  the  first  Twenty-five  Dollars 
of  the  expenses  of  the  printer's  charges  and  other 


160      THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

costs  of  such  alterations,  and  the  author  shall 
bear  all  such  expenses  in  excess  of  Twenty-five 
Dollars. 

It  is  understood  and  agreed  that  if  during  the 
period  covered  by  this  agreement,  said  work  shall 
be  published  in  other  than  cloth  book  form,  the 
terms  of  such  publication  shall  be  subject  to  a 
further  mutual  arrangement  between  the  said 
PUBLISHER  and  said  author,  and  shall  not  be 
deemed  to  be  covered  by  this  agreement. 

Said  publisher  agrees  to  make  and  furnish  to 
said  author  written  statements  of  sales  of  said 
book,  and  to  pay  royalties  based  thereon,  twice 
a  year,  namely,  in  February  and  August  of  each 
year. 

Said  PUBLISHER  will  present  to  said  author, 
free  of  charge,  twelve  copies  of  said  book  im- 
mediately upon  publication,  and  sell  to  him  any 
additional  copies  desired  for  his  personal  use  at 
a  discount  of  twenty-foe  per  cent,  from  the  retail 
price  of  said  book,  and  upon  said  additional  copies 
so  purchased  by  said  author,  he  shall  be  entitled 
to  royalties. 

The  said  publisher  hereby  agrees  to  transfer 


CONTRACTS  WITH  PUBLISHERS     161 

to  the  said  author  all  rights  and  privileges  which 
are  contained  in  this  Agreement,  provided  that 
he,  the  said  publisher,  fails  to  be  able  to  supply 
the  market  with  the  said  book  for  any  period  ex- 
ceeding ninety  days. 

It  is  expressly  understood  and  agreed  that  if 
the  publication  of  said  work  in  the  manner  and 
style  agreed  upon  by  the  parties  hereto  shall  oc- 
casion or  directly  or  indirectly  result  in  any  suit 
at  law  or  in  equity,  to  which  the  said  pubushee 
thai!  be  made  a  party  by  reason  of  any  real  or 
claimed  libel,  infringement  of  copyright,  or  un- 
fair competition,  then  the  said  author  will  in- 
demnify and  save  harmless  the  said  pubushsr 
from  and  against  all  costs,  damages,  counsel  fees, 
and  any  expenses  whatsoever  which  the  pub- 
lisher shall  or  may  sustain  or  incur  in  and  about 
the  said  action  or  suit. 

(Other  conditions  may  appear  here.) 

IN  WITNESS  WHEREOF  the  parties  here- 
unto have  set  their  hands  and  seals,  the  day  and 
year  first  above  written. 

George  T.  Smith,     [Seal.] 


162     THE  7\RT  OF  STORY  WRITING 

Witness  to  signature  of  authok: 
Walter  W,  Warren, 

The  New  York  Pubushing  Company, 

[Seai..] 
By  John  M.  White,  President, 

Witness  to  signature  of  pubmshers: 
Mary  W,  Green. 


CHAPTER  XXVin 

DlSBEPUTABLB   PuBLlSHEES 

SCATTERED  throughout  the  country  are  a 
number  of  publishing  houses,  or  rather  con- 
cerns which  pretend  to  act  as  publishers,  whose 
business  is  disreputable. 

They  own  extensive  printing  establishments,  or 
arc  connected  with  them.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
they  do  not  really  publish  a  book,  except  when 
they,  by  accident,  get  hold  of  one  which  will  sell 
without  pressure. 

They  are  plain  and  simple  swindlers,  who  prey 
upon  the  innocent,  proud,  and  conceited  writers 
who  cannot  possibly  produce  a  readable  book. 
They  usually  maintain  handsomely  appointed  of- 
fices, and  those  in  charge  of  them  are  excessively 
suave  and  polite.  They  never  turn  down  a  man- 
uscript which  is  respectable  and  is  not  libelous. 
They  will  publish  practically  everything  and  any- 

163 


164.     THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

thing,  if  the  author  is  able  to  put  up  a  guaranty- 
fund. 

They  require  an  advance  payment  far  in  ex- 
cess of  the  cost  of  printing  and  binding.  In 
other  words,  they  are  printers  only,  and  not  pub- 
lishers; and  they  make  their  money  as  printers, 
except  that  they  overcharge  for  the  work  they 
do. 

Not  only  do  they  make  a  profit  out  of  the 
printing  and  alleged  publishing,  but  they  will 
suggest  revision  and  editing  at  the  author's  ex- 
pense. 

I  think  that  most  of  them  realize  a  profit  of  not 
less  than  a  hundred  per  cent,  on  every  book  they 
pretend  to  publish.  They  keep  within  the  law, 
because  they  legally  publish  the  book.  They  an- 
nounce it,  and  claim  to  make  effort  to  sell  it. 

It  is  very  hard  to  reach  these  scoundrels  by 
process  of  law,  because  they  usually  keep  within 
legal  requirements. 

Their  procedure  is  somewhat  as  follows:  They 
keep  in  close  touch  with  the  so-called  readers  of 
reputable  publishers.  These  readers  come  in  con- 
tact with  a  large  number  of  unavailable  manu- 


DISREPUTABLE  PUBLISHERS      165 

scripts,  either  of  little  or  no  value,  or  unsalable. 
Most  of  these  readers  are  conscientious  and  hon- 
est, but  as  they  are  necessarily  literary  and 
professional  men  or  women,  few  of  them  are  famil- 
iar with  the  wiles  of  these  false  publishers.  In- 
nocently they  will  agree  to  furnish  the  names 
and  addresses  of  the  authors  whose  manuscripts 
they  have  rejected. 

The  disreputable  publisher  writes  an  enthu- 
siastic letter  to  the  author,  telling  him  that  he 
understands  that  he  has  written  a  book  of  unusual 
merit.  He  will  ask  the  author,  as  a  favor,  to 
send  him  the  manuscript.  He  will  give  it  a  super- 
ficial reading,  or  may  not  read  it  at  all.  He  will 
then  write  a  letter  to  the  author,  filled  with  the 
most  complimentary  expressions,  suggesting  that 
he  call  upon  him  or  correspond  with  him.  He  will 
assure  him  that  his  manuscript  possesses  great 
merit,  and  is  what  the  world  needs.  He  will  tell 
him  that  he  is  in  a  position  to  make  the  author's 
reputation,  to  force  his  name  to  become  a  house- 
hold word  all  over  the  reading  world. 

As  the  majority  of  authors,  and  especially  those 
who    cannot   possibly    produce    acceptable    manu- 


166     THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

scripts,  are  proud  of  their  work,  and  possess  a 
self-respect  heavily  adulterated  with  self-conceit, 
it  is  obvious  that  exaggerated  and  extreme  flat- 
tery will  not  fall  upon  unfertile  ground,  but  will 
take  root  even  deep  enough  to  reach  the  pocket- 
book  of  the  author. 

The  author  has  probably  read  his  manuscript 
to  friends,  who  are  incompetent  to  weigh  literary 
values,  or  who  would  flatter  him  anyway. 

The  fact  that  he  has  written  something  is  an 
indication  that  he  thinks  he  has  done  meritorious 
work.  He  is  hungry  for  praise,  and  will  accept 
it  indiscriminately.  He  calls  upon  the  publisher, 
and  is  received  royally.  He  is  taken  to  lunch, 
and  the  conversation  is  confined  to  his  wondrous 
manuscript. 

After  the  author  has  been  placed  in  a  responsive 
mood,  the  publisher  informs  him  that  he  would 
gladly  publish  the  book  on  the  usual  royalty  basis, 
and  without  expense  to  the  author,  but  unfor- 
tunately his  list  for  the  season  is  full.  Conse- 
quently he  cannot  consistently  take  on  any  new 
books  for  a  year  or  more. 

With  a   smile   which   would   sell   sawdust   as   a 


DISREPUTABLE  PUBLISHERS      167 

breakfast  food,  the  publisher  expresses  his  ahnost 
tearful  regrets  at  the  inevitable  conditions,  and 
intimates  that  if  the  author  will  allow  him  (the 
publisher)  to  act  as  his  agent,  he  will  give  the 
book  his  personal  attention,  and  so  handle  it  that 
it  will  have  exceptional  opportunity  to  burn  holes 
in  the  mental  pockets  of  the  expectant  world.  He 
cannot  bear  to  allow  so  good  a  work  to  remain  in 
a  manuscript.  It  will  make  a  hit, —  a  tremen- 
dous hit.  Its  publication  will  give  the  author  a 
reputation  as  wide  and  as  broad  as  the  great, 
big  world  of  readers.  Fame  is  knocking  at  the 
author's  door.  Will  the  author  welcome  it,  or 
will  he  allow  opportunity  (spelled  with  a  capital 
O)  to  pass  beyond  his  reach?  Quietly  the  pub- 
lisher informs  the  author  that  the  expense  of  pub- 
lication will  be  very  slight,  not  exceeding,  say,  a 
thousand  dollars.  If  the  author  has  the  money, 
the  publisher  is  likely  to  get  it.  If  he  has  not, 
the  publisher  will  suggest  that  the  author  borrow 
it,  because  it  will  be  so  easy  to  return  it  from  the 
enormous  income  of  the  book.  The  poor  deluded 
author,  proud  of  what  he  has  written,  filled  with 
the  conceit  of  literature,  falls  an  easy  victim. 


168     THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

The  publisher  is  not,  however,  through  with  him. 
There  are  other  avenues  of  profit,  and  he  leads 
the  author  gentlj  to  them  and  through  them. 
With  a  smile  which  was  practiced  before  his  mir- 
ror, and  in  the  atmosphere  of  a  potted-plant  of- 
fice, he  assures  the  author  that  the  sale  of  the 
book  will  be  materially  increased  by  the  addition 
of  illustrations.  He  would  like  to  send  the  manu- 
script to  one  of  his  artists,  who  would  read  it  and 
suggest  pictures,  always,  of  course,  with  the  as- 
sistance of  the  author.  This  is  the  climax  of  fi- 
nancial flattery.  The  author  loses  his  head,  and 
more  of  his  money.  The  illustrations  are  made  at 
a  cost  two  or  three  times  greater  than  the  expense 
of  producing  the  pictures  and  plates. 

The  publisher  may  send  copies  for  review  to  a 
list  of  newspapers  with  which  he  has  an  arrange- 
ment. The  editors  of  these  journals  will,  un- 
doubtedly, review  the  work  in  extravagant  terms, 
and  the  publisher  will  hand  these  reviews  with  much 
satisfaction  to  the  smiling  and  much  deceived 
author. 

If  the  guaranty  fund  paid  by  the  author  is  suf- 
ficient, the  publisher  may  advertise  the  book  in  a 


DISREPUTABLE  PUBLISHERS      169 

few  newspapers  or  magazines;  but  if  he  does  so, 
he  is  likely  to  require  an  additional  payment  from 
the  author.  Here,  again,  he  has  an  opportunity 
to  make  an  additional  pro6t  at  the  author's  ex- 
pense. 

The  book  is  published,  a  few  copies  of  the  an- 
nouncement, filled  with  superlative  adjectives,  are 
printed,  and  the  circulation  of  them  is  pretty 
closely  limited  to  what  the  author  receives. 

If  the  author  has  money,  or  can  get  it,  the  pub- 
lisher suggests  that  the  author  purchase  a  num- 
ber of  the  books  and  send  autograph  copies,  not 
only  to  his  friends,  but  to  leading  literary  writers 
and  to  other  prominent  persons.  This  will  ad- 
vertise the  book,  says  the  publisher,  and  be  of 
mutual  benefit,  especially  to  the  author.  It  will 
add  many  cubits  to  the  rapidly  growing  stature  of 
his  fame. 

The  publisher  offers  to  bear  a  part  of  the  ex- 
pense, and  to  sell  the  books  at  an  extremely  low 
price;  but  this  price,  although  it  looks  low  on  the 
face  of  it,  pays  the  publisher  a  hundred  per  cent, 
net  profit. 

Possibly  a  dozen  copies  are  actually  sold. 


170      THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

The  publisher  has  the  author's  money,  the  au- 
thor has  the  distinction  of  making  a  fool  of  him- 
self, of  putting  on  the  market,  at  his  own  ex- 
pense, a  book  which  nobody  will  read  or  want  to 
read, —  and  the  bottom  of  his  fame  falls  out  for- 
ever. 

The  author,  in  dismay,  calls  upon  the  publisher 
aud  weeps  tears  of  disappointment.  The  pub- 
lisher, without  one  whit  less  of  a  smile,  expresses 
unbounded  surprise  and  unlimited  regret.  He 
docs  not  understand  why  so  good  a  book  has  not 
been  received  with  cheers  of  approbation.  He  as- 
sures the  author, —  if  the  author  has  any  more 
money  at  his  disposal, —  that  the  reason  cannot  be 
located.  The  trouble  was  caused  by  one  of  those 
inexplicable  situations,  which  occasionally  occur. 
He  advises  the  author  to  try  again;  and,  if  the 
author  has  any  money,  the  chances  are  that  he 
will  do  so.  Once  a  fool,  always  a  fool,  until  either 
money  or  folly  gives  out. 

I  do  not  feel  called  upon  to  give  the  reader  the 
names  of  these  disreputable  publishers,  because, 
while  they  are  known  to  be  charlatans,  it  would 
be  very  difficult  to  furnish  proof  which  will  stand 


DISREPUTABLE  PUBLISHERS      171 

in  law.  The  author  can  avoid  them  by  keeping 
away  from  any  book  publishers  who  do  not  have 
an  established  reputation.  It  may  not  be  easy, 
however,  for  him  to  discover  just  what  an  estab- 
lished reputation   is. 

Unless  he  is  acquainted  with  the  character  of 
publishers,  he  should  ask  the  advice  of  the  literary 
editor  of  a  great  publication,  who  makes  a  spe- 
cialty of  reviewing  books.  A  letter  addressed  to 
the  editor  of  any  of  the  leading  magazines  will 
bring  a  courteous  and  satisfactory  reply.  I 
would  suggest  that  he  write  to  several  magazine 
editors,  and  refuse  to  have  anything  to  do  with 
any  publisher  unless  three  reputable  magazine 
editors  recommend  him. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

COPYKIGHTING 

COPYHIGHTS  may  be  secured  by  making 
an  application  in  writing  to  the  Copyright 
©epartment,  Librarian  of  Congress,  Washington, 
D.  C. 

Copyrights  may  be  secured  for  practically 
every  kind  of  book,  including  composite  books,  en- 
cyclopedias, directories,  and  gazetteers.  Period- 
icals, including  newspapers,  dramatical  and  musi- 
cal compositions,  works  of  art,  including  models 
or  designs  for  works  of  art,  reproductions  of 
works  of  art,  drawings  or  plastic  works  of  a  scien- 
tific character,  figures,  prints,  pictorial  illustra- 
tions, and  motion-picture  photo-plays,  and  motion 
pictures  without  photo-plays,  may  be  copyrighted. 

A  copyright  may  also  be  issued  for  lectures, 
sermons,  and  addresses,  which  are  delivered  and 
not  printed  or  published. 

The  copyright  gives  to  the  author,  or  artist, 
172 


COPYRIGHTING  173 

or  modeler,  or  to  the  publisher,  or  owner  of  the 
work,  exclusive  rights  to  make,  use,  print,  publish, 
or  sell  the  work  in  question  for  a  term  of  twenty- 
eight  years  from  date  of  publication  or  issue,  or 
from  the  date  of  copyright  entry  if  the  work  is 
not  published. 

At  the  expiration  of  the  terra  provided  for,  the 
copyright  may  be  renewed  or  extended  by  the  au- 
thor, if  living,  or  by  the  widow,  or  widower,  or 
children  of  the  author,  if  the  author  is  not  living, 
or  by  the  author's  executors,  or  by  his  next  of 
kin,  for  an  additional  twenty-eight  years,  or  for 
fifty-six  years  in  all. 

The  process  of  securing  a  copyright  is  very 
simple.  The  would-be  copyrighter  should  write 
to  the  Copyright  Department,  Librarian  of  Con- 
gress, Washington,  D.  C,  specifying  the  class  of 
the  article  which  he  desires  to  copyright,  and  re- 
questing the  department  to  send  him  rules  and 
regulations  and  application  blanks.  Postage 
stamps  need  not  be  enclosed  for  reply. 

He  will  then  fill  out  the  blanks  according  to  in- 
structions, and  forward  them  to  the  Copyright 
Office,   enclosing   a   money   order   for   one   dollar. 


174.      THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

There  are  no  other  fees.  If  a  dollar  bill  is  sent, 
the  letter  should  be  registered.  Personal  checks 
will  not  be  accepted. 

Within  a  few  days,  he  will  receive  a  certificate 
of  copyright. 

The  services  of  a  lawyer  are  not  needed,  as  any 
one  of  ordinary  intelligence  can  obtain  a  copy- 
right. Should  his  application  be  faulty,  the 
Copyright  Office  will  return  it  with  further  in- 
structions. 

The  majority  of  books  are  copyrighted  by  the 
publisher. 

The  line  "Copyright,  1913,  by  John  T. 
Smith "  must  appear  on  the  title-page,  or  upon 
the  page  following  the  title-page,  of  the  book,  and 
must  be  written  or  printed  on  every  copy  of 
everything  copyrighted. 

Articles  or  stories,  either  for  syndicates  or  for 
exclusive  publication,  may  be  copyrighted,  either 
by  the  author  or  publisher;  but  if  published  in  a 
copyrighted  magazine  or  paper,  the  general  copy- 
right will  cover  them. 

If  the  author  or  syndicate  does  its  own  copy- 
righting, the  line  "  Copyright,  1913,  by  John  T. 


COPYRIGHTING  175 

Smith  "  must  appear  either  at  the  beginning  or 
at  the  close  of  the  article  or  story. 

Foreign  copyrights  may  be  secured,  but  as  the 
process  is  somewhat  complicated,  I  would  refer  the 
reader  to  any  good  publisher. 

A  copyrighted  book  or  story  cannot  be  drama- 
tized without  the  consent  of  the  owner  of  the  copy- 
right. The  copyright  covers  the  book,  or  story, 
or  article  in  its  entirety,  but  does  not  protect  the 
title  of  it.  For  example,  let  us  suppose  that  you 
have  written  a  book  entitled,  "  The  Career  of 
John  Smith."  The  copyright  will  prevent  any 
one  else  from  publishing  a  book,  in  whole  or  in 
part,  similar  to  yours,  but  the  owner  of  the  copy- 
right cannot  legally  stop  the  use  of  the  same  title 
for  any  work  which  is  not  a  copy  of  his. 

Reputable  publishers,  however,  will  not  dupli- 
cate the  title  of  a  book.  This,  however,  is  oc- 
casionally done  by  accident. 

In  several  magazines  and  newspapers,  there  are 
appearing  advertisements  of  so-called  literary  as- 
sociations, which,  by  indirection,  circulate  the 
impression  that  they  have  special  facilities  for 
copyrighting,  and  some  of  them  state  that  Wash- 


176      THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

ington  is  the  only  place  where  copyrights  can  be 
secured.  The  latter  statement  is  correct,  but  ap- 
plication for  copyright  can  be  made  by  mail,  and 
has  to  be  made  in  writing  anyway.  There  is  ab- 
solutely no  need  of  applying  for  it  in  person  at 
the  Copyright  Office  in  Washington,  by  the  au- 
thor or  by  his  agent.  There  is  no  reason  why  the 
author  should  pay  a  fee  beyond  the  dollar  re- 
quired by  the  Government  for  the  securing  of  a 
copyright. 

A  copyright  may  be  transferred  by  its  owner, 
within  the  life  of  the  copyright,  by  any  instrument 
of  writing.  It  is  simply  a  bill-of-sale  or  convey- 
ance. This  transfer  should  be  registered  in  the 
Copyright  OflSce.  The  party  to  whom  a  copy- 
right is  transferred  should  send  the  original  bill- 
of-sale  or  conveyance  to  the  Copyright  Office 
within  three  months  of  its  execution. 

Copyrights  may  be  bequeathed  by  will. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

QUOTINO    FROM    COPYRIGHTED    MaTTER 

AUTHORS  are  cautioned  against  quoting 
from  copyrighted  matter  to  an  extent  exceed- 
ing a  few  words,  without  the  consent  of  the  owner 
of  the  copyright. 

While  there  is  no  established  rule  as  to  just 
how  much  one  can  use  with  impunity,  the  author 
is  advised  to  obtain  consent  for  the  reproduction 
of  copyrighted  matter,  if  he  quotes  it  to  an  extent 
of  more  than  a  short  quotation. 

The  author  cannot,  legally,  take  matter  from 
one  book  or  article  of  his  own,  unless  he  retains 
the  copyright,  and  place  it  in  another  book  or 
article,  which  is  to  be  printed  or  published  by 
other  than  the  one  owning  the  copyright. 

The  manuscript  of  a  book,  if  the  copyright  is 
held   by   its  publisher,  belongs   to   the   publisher, 
and  not  to  the  author.     He  has  no  more  rights 
to  it  than  he  would  have  if  he  were  an  outsider. 
177 


178     THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

Copyrighted  matter  is,  technically  speaking, 
merchandise;  and  the  ownership  of  it  is  vested  in 
the  holder  of  the  copyright,  as  much  so  as  would 
be  the  proprietorship  of  a  barrel  of  flour  pur- 
chased by  a  customer. 

All  rights  to  a  manuscript,  the  copyright  of 
which  is  owned  by  its  publisher,  are  the  publish- 
er's, subject  only  to  the  conditions  of  the  con- 
tract between  the  publisher  and  the  author. 


CHAPTER  XXXI 
The  Danger  op  Libel 

THE  author  of  any  book,  story,  or  article  is 
jointly  liable  with  the  publisher  of  it,  for  any- 
thing which  may  be  legally  construed  to  be  in- 
jurious or  damaging  to  the  party  written  about; 
and  he  or  the  publisher,  or  both  of  them,  may  be 
subjected  to  suit  at  law,  resulting  in  fines  or  even 
imprisonment. 

Libel  may  exist  even  though  the  true  names  of 
the  parties  written  about  are  not  mentioned,  if 
the  inference  is  sufficient  to  locate  them. 

Practically  every  contract  made  with  book  pub- 
lishers contains  a  clause  which  holds  the  author 
responsible  for  any  damage  which  may  result 
from  the  publication  of  his  manuscript.  This 
does  not  exempt  the  publisher  from  liability,  but 
it  holds  the  author  co-responsible  with  him. 

Writers  should  use  great  care  to  avoid  any 
complications.  If  their  characters  are  drawn 
179 


180      THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

from  life,  they  should  carefully  disguise  them,  or 
else  obtain  their  permission,  particularly  if  what 
they  say  about  them  can  be  construed  as  injurious 
to  their  reputations  or  business.  Not  only  is  it 
well  to  use  fictitious  names,  but  the  names  of  lo- 
calities should  be  changed  if  there  appears  to  be 
opportunity  for  libel.  Wlicn  in  doubt,  authors 
should  carefully  avoid  using  verbatim  any  expres- 
sion which  his  characters  have  made  in  real  life, 
or  which  would  be  sufficient  to  establish  connection 
between  them  and  what  is  said  about  them. 

If  he  allows  his  characters  to  do  and  say  what 
is  highly  to  their  credit,  he  may  not  be  in  much 
danger;  but  even  then,  he  should  use  due  care. 
If  it  is  necessary  for  him  to  print  their  real 
names,  or  to  make  them  do  or  say  what  they  have 
said  and  done,  then  he  should  be  absolutely  sure 
of  his  facts  and  be  prepared  to  prove  his  state- 
ments in  a  court  of  law. 

While  libel  suits  are  an  exception  rather  than 
the  rule,  and  while  comparatively  few  people  care 
to  subject  themselves  to  the  annoyance  of  a  law- 
suit unless  the  statements  made  are  directly  li- 
belous, the  author  should  be  on  his  guard,  and 


THE  DANGER  OF  LIBEL  181 

should  not  place  in  his  book  anything  which  will 
injure  the  reputation  of  any  honest  person  or 
persons. 

By  judicious  changing  of  names  and  of  locali- 
ties, one  may  be  permitted  to  say  almost  any- 
thing, and  the  yalue  of  the  book  or  article  is  not 
lessened. 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

The  Price  of  a  Book 

COMPARATIVELY  few  cloth-covered  books 
retail  for  less  than  a  dollar,  the  usual  price 
for  a  novel,  or  work  of  fiction,  being  either  a  dol- 
lar, or  a  dollar  and  a  quarter,  or  a  dollar  and  a 
half,  although  a  few  books  are  listed  at  two  dol- 
lars or  even  at  three  dollars. 

The  publisher,  not  the  author,  determines  the 
price,  and  it  may  have  much  to  do  with  the  sale 
of  the  book. 

It  is  obvious  that,  in  most  cases,  more  books 
will  be  sold  at  a  dollar  than  at  a  higher  price; 
therefore,  ten  per  cent,  of  one  dollar  may  bring 
more  to  the  author  than  he  would  receive  if  the 
book  was  priced  at  a  dollar  and  a  quarter  or 
higher.  Circumstances  govern  the  price.  Some 
books  wiU  sell  as  well  at  a  dollar  and  a  half  as 
they  would  if  listed  at  a  dollar. 

Children's  stories  are  retailed  at  from  twenty- 
182 


THE  PRICE  OF  A  BOOK  183 

&ve  cents  to  a  dollar,  although  a  few  of  them  are 
priced  as  high  as  a  dollar  and  a  half  or  two  dol- 
lars, the  latter  figures  applying  only  to  books 
which  are  handsomely  illustrated. 

Art  works  and  De  liLxe  editions  may  be  mar- 
keted at  any  price,  even  as  high  as  ten  dollars 
for  a  single  volume. 

Text-books  retail  from  seventy-five  cents  to  two 
dollars,  but  the  average  price  is  about  a  dollar. 

Paper-covered  books  are  sold  at  fifteen,  twenty- 
five,  or  fifty  cents.  I  do  not  recall  any  retail- 
ing for  more  than  half  a  dollar. 

The  book  publisher  seldom  receives  the  retail 
or  list  price  of  his  product,  as  most  of  the  books 
he  publishes  are  sold  to  the  bookstores,  or  to  other 
publishers,  at  a  trade  discount  of  from  twenty- 
five  to  forty  per  cent.  The  usual  discount  on  a 
net  book  is  twenty-five  per  cent.,  other  books  be- 
ing subject  to  thirty-three  and  one-third  per  cent, 
discount,  and  sometimes  to  forty  per  cent.  This 
discount  may  not  affect  the  author,  who  usually 
receives  a  royalty  based  upon  the  list  or  retail 
price. 

The  reputable  publisher  does  not  sell  any  book 


184      THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

at  retail  for  less  than  the  list  price,  but  often 
the  same  book  can  be  obtained  at  a  department 
store  at  a  discount  of  from  ten  to  even  fifty  per 
cent. 

The  flush  sale  of  the  average  novel  is  limited 
to  a  year  or  two  from  date  of  publication.  The 
publisher,  then,  legitimately  cuts  the  price  to 
those  who  buy  a  large  number  of  copies.  The 
department  store,  because  it  is  a  large  purchaser, 
may  obtain  a  heavy  additional  discount,  which  en- 
ables it  to  market  the  book  at  trade  price,  or  even 
lower,  and  yet  make  a  reasonable  profit. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 
Illustrations 

ABOUT  a  third  of  the  books  published,  other 
than  those  in  paper  covers,  and  considerably 
more  than  half  of  the  magazine  articles  and 
stories,  are  accompanied  by  one  or  several  illus- 
trations, which  are  either  what  is  known  as  half- 
tone engravings,  or  reproductions  of  line  prints, 
or  from  pen  and  ink  drawings. 

Half-tone  engravings,  or  what  are  commer- 
cially known  as  half-tone  cuts,  are  produced  from 
photographs,  either  from  nature,  or  from  wash 
drawings,  or  from  oil  paintings.  A  photograph 
of  the  object  is  taken  in  the  ordinary  way.  The 
same  solution  which  is  used  in  the  making  of  photo- 
graph paper  is  placed  upon  the  surface  of  a  plate 
of  copper  or  zinc.  This  metallic  plate,  with  the 
photograph  upon  it,  is  placed  in  a  trough  re- 
sembling a  small  cradle  on  rockers.  Sufficient 
185 


186      THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

acid  is  poured  into  the  cradle  so  that  it  will  flow 
over  the  surface  of  the  plate  when  the  cradle 
is  rocked.  This  acid  eats  between  the  lines  of 
the  photograph,  but  does  not  affect  the  photo- 
graph itself.  Thus  the  plate  is  etched,  and  has 
a  surface  similar  to  that  of  type,  although  more 
shallow. 

In  the  making  of  half-tone  plates,  however, 
which  are  taken  from  photographs  of  objects 
which  are  not  lined  off  or  of  indistinct  lines,  it  is 
obvious  that  no  printing  result  could  be  obtained 
if  the  picture  was  not  broken  up  or  separated 
into  distinct  parts,  allowing  for  space  between 
them.  To  accomplish  this,  the  photograph  is 
taken  through  a  screen,  which  consists  of  a  pane 
of  glass,  upon  which  are  painted  lines  or  dots, 
running  from  eighty  to  three  hundred  to  the 
square  inch.  When  the  coarse  screen  is  used,  the 
plate  may  be  printed  in  an  ordinary  newspaper, 
but  fine  half-tone  engravings  require  coated  paper 
or  paper  with  a  very  hard  surface.  So-called 
line-engravings  or  cuts  are  made  in  the  same  way, 
except  that  no  screen  is  used. 

Half-tone  plates   cost   from   fifteen  to  twenty- 


ILLUSTRATIONS  187 

^ye  cents   per   square  inch,  and  line-plates   from 
eight  to  fifteen  cents  per  square  inch. 

Originally,  all  illustrations  were  engraved  upon 
wood,  the  picture  being  drawn  upon  boxwood, 
which  has  the  finest  fiber,  with  a  pencil,  or  else 
the  object  was  photographed  upon  the  wood  it- 
self. The  engraver,  with  a  fine  instrument,  cuts 
between  the  lines.  The  cost  of  the  woodcut,  be- 
cause of  the  skill  and  time  required  in  the  making 
of  it,  was  excessive,  many  book  and  magazine  il- 
lustrations costing  from  fifty  to  even  two  or  three 
hundred  dollars.  The  woodcut  is,  to-day,  prac- 
tically obsolete,  and  photo-engraving  has  super- 
ceded it,  at  an  enormous  saving  of  expense.  An 
illustration  which  formerly  cost  from  fifty  to  three 
hundred  dollars  to  produce,  can  now  be  made, 
and  have  a  much  better  appearance,  for  a  few 
dollars. 

While  coarse  half-tone  engravings  may  be 
printed  upon  book  paper,  they  seldom  appear  in 
a  book,  most  of  the  illustrations,  unless  line-cuts, 
being  printed  upon  coated  paper  and  inserted, 
which  increases  the  cost  of  paper  and  binding. 

A   few  books   are  printed  upon   coated  paper, 


188     THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

but  as  a  glazed  or  hard  surface  affects  the  eye, 
the  text  in  most  books  is  printed  upon  book 
paper.  Line-illustrations  may  appear  in  the  body 
of  the  book,  on  the  regular  book  paper,  as  they  do 
not  require  a  coated  surface. 

Several  books  are  illustrated  with  one  or  more 
colored  plates,  which  are  produced  by  either  what 
is  known  as  the  three-color  printing  process  or  by 
lithography.  If  the  former  method  is  used,  the 
object  is  photographed  through  three  colors  of 
glass,  and  three  half-tone  plates  are  made,  one 
from  each  photograph.  These  are  printed  in 
three  colors  of  ink,  one  for  each  plate,  and  the 
colors  of  the  ink  blend  upon  the  paper,  reproduc- 
ing the  actual  colors  of  the  original. 

This  work  is  expensive,  and  the  plates  must  be 
printed  upon  coated  paper  and  inserted  into  the 
book. 

Lithography  is  occasionally  used  for  book  illus- 
trations. It  is  more  expensive  than  is  the  three- 
color  process,  unless  a  large  edition  is  printed. 

Lithographic  work  is  produced  by  drawing  a 
picture  upon  lithographic  stone,  requiring  as  many 
stones  as  ther«  are  primary  colors  used. 


ILLUSTRATIONS  189 

Let  us  suppose,  for  example,  that  the  picture 
is  to  be  in  six  colors.  That  part  of  the  picture, 
which  is  to  appear  in  one  color  is  drawn  upon  one 
stone,  and  so  on  until  the  work  is  completed.  One 
color  is  printed  at  a  time,  and  the  finished  prod- 
uct is  similar  to  the  original  colored  sketch  or 
painting.  The  drawing  upon  stone  is  made  with 
a  pencil  containing  a  greasy  substance.  The  lines 
sink  slightly  into  the  stone  but  have  very  little 
raised  surface,  so  little  that  one  may  not  be  able 
to  distinguish  the  engraved  stone  from  one  unen- 
graved  by  passing  his  hand  over  the  surface. 

The  law  of  nature  does  not  allow  water  to  ad- 
here to  grease,  or  grease  to  adhere  to  water.  The 
lithographic  press  has  two  sets  of  rollers,  one 
carrying  ink,  the  other  saturated  with  water. 
The  stone  passes  under  the  wet  rollers  first,  and 
the  water  does  not  interfere  with  what  is  drawn 
upon  the  stone,  but  clings  exclusively  to  that  part 
of  the  stone  which  is  not  engraved.  Lithographic 
ink  contains  some  oil,  which  prevents  the  ink 
from  attaching  itself  to  the  parts  of  the  stone 
which  are  wet,  the  ink  being  distributed  wholly 
upon  the  engraved  portions,  which  are  impressed 


190     THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

upon  the  paper  in  the  same  way  that  type  print- 
ing is  done. 

Occasionally  the  illustrations  are  printed  upon 
Japanese,  Chinese,  or  other  thin  paper,  and 
tipped  upon  the  pages  by  pasting  the  upper  end 
of  the  picture  onto   the  white  page. 

Many  books  contain  little  corner  illustrations, 
which  are  vignetted  into  the  book,  usually  at  the 
beginning  of  each  chapter,  and  may  be  a  part  of 
initial  letters.  They  may  be  printed  upon  any 
kind  of  paper. 

Mechanical  drawings,  which  are  usually  in  out- 
line, are  inexpensive,  and  do  not  require  the  use 
of  coated  paper  or  that  of  a  hard  surface. 

It  is  evident  that  the  expense  of  illustrating  a 
book  is  considerable,  not  wholly  because  of  the 
cost  of  the  plates,  but  because  they  often  require 
coated  paper,  which  must  be  inserted  into  the 
book,  and  which  increases  the  cost  of  binding. 

If  the  book  is  to  be  illustrated,  other  than  by 
the  reproduction  of  photographs,  which  the  author 
may  or  may  not  supply,  an  artist  is  engaged  by 
the  publisher,  who  reads  the  manuscript,  and  un- 
der the  joint  direction  of  the  publisher  and  author. 


ILLUSTRATIONS  191 

draws  scenes  or  characters  appearing  in  the  book. 

Illustrations  add  materially  to  the  sale  of  the 
book,  and  often  justify  the  additional  expense, 
but  are  not  considered  necessary  to  the  average 
novel  or  work  of  fiction. 

Some  publishers  require  the  author  of  an  illus- 
trated book  to  release  his  royalty  upon  a  thousand 
or  more  copies,  to  meet  the  additional  expense  of 
illustration. 

Illustrations  for  articles  or  stories  in  magazines, 
and  other  periodicals,  are  printed  upon  the  regu- 
lar body  paper,  which  is  usually  of  a  hard  sur- 
face, permitting  the  use  of  half-tone  engravings. 

It  is  suggested  that,  if  the  author  feels  that  il- 
lustrations would  add  materially  to  his  work,  he 
outline  the  subjects  of  them,  and  furnish  the  pub- 
lisher with  photographs  of  scenes  or  persons  to  be 
reproduced. 

Photographs  and  negatives  may  be  **  doctored," 
so  to  speak,  and  even  material  changes  made, 
which  may  affect  the  individuality  or  personality 
of  the  originals  or  be  improvements. 

Photographs  should  be  used  whenever  it  is  pos- 
sible to  obtain  them.     If  taken  especially  for  the 


192     THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

purpose,  a  photographer  familiar  with  half-tone 
work  should  be  employed,  and,  in  any  event,  he 
should  be  told  that  his  photographs  are  for  re- 
production. As  a  rule,  the  photograph  or  sketch, 
should  be  larger  than  the  reproduction  of  it,  as  a 
better  result  can  be  obtained  by  photographing 
down  rather  than  by  photographing  up. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 
The  Reading  of  Prootb 

BOOK  publishers  invariably  furnish  the  author 
with  galley  proofs  of  the  manuscript,  U8U« 
ally  a  half  dozen  or  more  proofs  at  a  time.  Oc- 
casionally, however,  the  entire  book  is  set,  and 
the  author  receives  the  proof  of  the  whole  of 
it,  with  the  exception  of  the  index,  if  there  be 
one. 

Galley  proofs  are  long  strips  of  paper,  two  or 
three  feet  in  length,  the  type  matter  appearing 
in  the  center,  with  wide  margins.  These  proofs 
represent  the  width  of  the  page,  but  not  the 
length. 

The  author  is  supposed  to  read  these  proofs 
carefully  and  to  make  corrections  upon  the  mar- 
gin. 

Because  it  is  much  easier  to  correct  a  proof  ill 
galley,  than  it  is  after  the  tjrpe  is  paged  up,  the 
193 


194j     the  art  of  story  WRITING 

author  should  read  the  galley  proofs  with  the  ut- 
most care  and  attempt  to  make  all  of  his  correc- 
tions upon  these  proofs.  After  the  type  is  put 
into  pages,  it  is  both  difficult  and  expensive  to 
make  more  than  minor  corrections. 

The  galley  proof  can  be  of  any  length,  and 
words  or  lines  can  be  added  or  omitted,  when  to 
do  so  in  the  page  proof  might  require  the  trans- 
position of  several  lines  of  type  through  seyeral 
pages. 

Most  book  publishers  allow  the  author  to  make 
corrections  up  to  not  exceeding  twenty-five  dol- 
lars worth,  or  ten  per  cent,  of  the  cost  of  setting 
the  type  in  the  first  place.  For  example,  if  it 
costs,  say,  three  hundred  dollars,  to  set  the  type 
for  a  book,  the  author  may  be  allowed,  for  cor- 
rections, ten  per  cent,  of  three  hundred  dollars, 
or  thirty  dollars.  If  his  corrections  exceed  that 
amount,  he  is  charged  the  additional  cost  of  mak- 
ing them. 

Many  an  author,  through  carelessness,  has  been 
obliged  to  pay  for  author's  corrections  more  than 
the  entire  cost  of  the  first  setting  of  the  book. 
Recently  a  friend  of  mine,  an  inexperienced  author. 


THE  READING  OF  PROOFS         195 

although  one  of  the  broadest  education,  was 
obliged  to  pay  nearly  double  the  cost  of  the  orig- 
inal setting  for  the  changes  and  corrections  he 
made  on  both  galley  and  page  proofs. 

If  the  manuscript  is  typewritten,  and  carefully 
read,  both  by  the  author  and  by  the  one  to  whom 
he  has  submitted  it,  the  author*8  corrections  are 
not  likely  to  exceed  the  amount  allowed  by  the 
publisher. 

After  the  galley  proofs  have  been  corrected,  the 
type  matter  is  paged  up,  with  running  headings. 
For  example,  if  the  book  bears  a  title  of  '*  John 
Smith,  Merchant,"  tlie  proofs  of  even  pages  will 
have  at  the  top  the  line,  "  John  Smith,  Mer- 
chant," with  the  page  number  at  the  left  of  it. 
The  right-hand  pages  will  carry  either  a  repeti- 
tion of  the  title  of  the  book  or  the  subject-matter 
of  the  chapter,  followed  by  a  page  number.  The 
page  number  may  be  placed  at  the  bottom  of  the 
page.  Occasionally  a  book  is  published  without 
running  headings. 

The  publisher  usually  sends  the  page  proofs  to 
the  author.  These  should  be  read  with  great  care, 
and  the  author  should  remember  that  corrections 


196     THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

made  on  page  proofs,  for  the  reason  which  I  have 
already  stated,  are  both  difficult  and  expensive 
to  make. 

If  the  author  desires  to  change  a  word  or  sen- 
tence in  the  page  proofs  he  may  usually,  if  he  be 
careful,  make  changes  which  will  not  require  the 
running  over  of  a  line  or  lines  into  the  following 
page  or  pages. 

Practically  all  books  are  electrotyped,  and  elec- 
trotype-proofs may  be  sent  to  the  author  for 
final  revision.  Minor  corrections  can  be  made 
upon  them,  but  at  large  expense. 

The  author's  manuscript  should  be  as  near  cor- 
rect as  possibility  admits,  particularly  if  it  is  to  be 
set  on  the  linotype,  which  machine  casts  full  lines, 
making  corrections  more  difficult  to  handle  than 
when  the  composition  is  done  by  hand  or  on  a 
typesetting  machine.  Many  books  are  set  on  the 
linotype,  because  it  costs  less,  and  the  effect  on 
the  printed  page  is  practically  the  same,  unless 
coated  or  hard  paper  is  used. 

The  author  is  semiresponsible  for  spelling,  punc- 
tuation, and  paragraphing,  but  misspelled  words, 
unless   of  a  technical  character,  will  undoubtedly 


THE  READING  OF  PROOFS         197 

be  corrected  in  the  editorial  department  or  by  the 
compositor,  and  the  making  of  these  corrections 
not  charged  to  the  author.    ♦ 

Each  publisher,  as  a  rule,  has  his  own  style  of 
spelling  words  which  admit  of  more  than  one  spell- 
ing, of  capitalization,  paragraphing,  and  punc- 
tuation, and  he  is  likely  to  follow  it,  irrespective 
of  the  manuscript,  unless  the  work  be  purely  tech- 
nical. 

Some  publishers  punctuate  very  freely,  others 
do  it  sparingly.  One  publisher  prefers  many 
paragraphs,  while  another  uses  a  less  number. 
As  there  is  no  standard  for  punctuation  or  para- 
graphing, except  that  all  styles  follow  a  general 
rule,  the  author  should  not  object  to  the  styles 
maintained  by  his  publisher. 

Every  literary  writer  should  understand  the 
rudiments,  at  least,  of  proof-reading,  so  as  to  be 
able  to  correct  his  proof. 

The  following  pages  present  all  of  the  proof- 
reading marks  in  common  use.  Although  these 
marks  vary  slightly,  all  of  those  given  will  be 
readily  understood  by  every  compositor,  printer, 
editor,  and  publisher. 


198      THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

I  will  not  go.  -^  I  WILL  not  g^ 

William/lar.k.        ft  Williara.BIac^ 


'i    (c»V*cn4J 


Boston.  Mass.         ^  •  ^^>^  BosfoN,  Ma^ 

Boston  Tribune.  Kf^CUL  Boston  Tn'6un*> 

Chicago  Express.         |^  OMA*  Chicago  Express: 

Oo  iiTto  the  halL  O  <^  ^^^  the  haU. 

Trait^  stop  here.         ^*  Trains  stop  here. 

[Hundreds  of  dogs.     Thousands  of  cats.  «*•»       Hundreds  of  dogs. 

^^  Thousands  of  cats. 


THE  READING  OF  PROOFS         199 

Agreat 


SfxtAxfM.  X  »  ^  Agreat&ir. 


C        9 

6*  He  called  htm  honomblel*    ^^    ^  •«  He  odled  him  •  honorable  M  • 

Timothy  TJtcomb  J.  G.  HolUnd.  ^  /  J  Timothy  Titcorob  0-  G-  Hollwd) 
Wendell  PhWhpJ Oratioms.       ?  /  Wendell  PhilUpe  :  Oratiom 

Stones  groN^animaJs  live.        ^  /  Stones  grow;  animals  fivey 

Fie.  my  lord/a  soldier?        /  /  Fi«.'«y  lord!  a  aolditr^ 


,  eJ?6w«wui^^*^^A  •/ 


goo      THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

1  tour  you  so.  Q  I  told  you  so. 

Tell  mc  your^»^name.         Q^  .Tell  me  your  name* 

Co  to  bed;  Go  to  your  bed; 

Where  ishe  ?  aj/^  Where  is  he?3 

Come  with  mclquickly7       Sl/^    ^Hz  Cbme  with  me  quickly,^ 

Go  J  Co  J  Go:     I  it  Go  — Go— Go. 

Fish^  Fish/pish,     I  ^     _  I  Fish Fish Fish.  '• 


THE  READING  OF  PROOFS         201 

I  Are  you  going"?  "^  ^     J^       Are  you  going  f    Arc  you  wellT 

■Arc  you  well  ?  ^     \ 

«;o  pins.  ^  ^^  • 

C'js  ncffllJs.  ^         l<  vw^A    ^aa      so  P»n«»  *5  n««dle«,  75  thimbles. 
C~75  thimbles. 

Gcid  morning  I  vo  P  ^o****  morning  ? 

I  don't  mmmO.  to  go    I  O^^l^  I  don't  w«nt  to  go. 

For^jJin^dJ^  -t  V  ''*'  ^"  '"^  *"*■ 

A  selectionfsufficient  for  both  of  us.     A  sufficient  selection  for  both  of  us. 
Btst|*nd  West  |        |  East  and  West 


^A  school  for^racticajlroen.     ^  ^  A  practical  school  for  men. 


202      THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

I  Jove  you/  Do  you  love  my    w  /  P  J    I  love  you.    Do  you  love' me  f 
Some  pens  paper  and  ink.      ^ I J  j  Some  pens,  paper,  and  ink. ; 

Druggists  sundries.         \/  Druggists*  sundries.. 


Hall's  Romeo.^        0/       W  Hall's  "Romeo.^ 


%     V     V 


A  well  wisher.  25.   /  ■^  well-wisher*? 


will  go.  V-w»vtf  <  >^>1I  go* 

will  go.  .J.  ^^  ^'^^  g°* 


il  hey  will  go.     f  S't'  r  a^^y^"^*^  They  will  go. 


Take  Notice.,  ^J— *'*^-*^  (j^=Take  Notice. 


THE  READING  OF  PROOFS         203 

The  marks  should  be  written  in  either  of  the 
margins,  and  not  between  the  lines  of  type.  If 
a  considerable  amount  of  matter  is  to  be  added, 
it  is  better  not  to  write  it  upon  the  margin,  but 
to  cut  the  proof  in  two, —  the  addition  to  be  writ- 
ten upon  a  piece  of  paper  and  pasted  between  the 
two  ends  of  the  severed  proof. 


CHAPTER  XXXV 

Books  Published  at  the  Author's  Expense 

REPUTABLE  publishers  often  publish,  wholly 
or  partly  at  the  author's  expense,  books 
which  would  appear  to  have  a  small  sale.  First- 
class  publishers,  however,  will  not  place  upon  the 
market  any  book  discreditable  to  them. 

Thousands  of  books  have  seen  the  light  of  pub- 
lication, which  could  not  be  considered  profitable. 
Let  us  suppose,  for  example,  that  you  have  made 
a  study  of  some  scientific  subject,  and  desire  to 
place  the  result  of  your  labors  in  book  form.  If 
the  subject  is  not  one  which  will  warrant  a  sale 
sufficient  to  pay  the  cost  of  publication  and  a  fair 
profit  to  the  publisher,  any  reputable  publisher 
will  consider  the  publication  of  the  book  if  the 
author  stands  between  him  and  loss,  the  author 
taking  the  whole  or  a  part  of  the  risk.  When 
this  is  done,  the  publisher  becomes  the  agent  of 
the  author  and  may  pay  him  as  much  as  twenty- 
five  per  cent,  of  the  retail  or  list  price. 
204 


BOOKS  AT  AUTHOR'S  EXPENSE      206 

Occasionally  an  author,  who  is  financially  able, 
prefers  to  make  this  arrangement;  for,  if  the  book 
is  successful,  his  remuneration  will  be  larger. 
But  probably  ninety-nine  per  cent,  of  books  pub- 
lished are  at  the  expense  of  the  publisher,  who 
assumes  all  risk. 

It  is  obvious  that  a  publisher  is  more  likely  to 
push  the  sale  of  a  book,  if  he  is  not  guaranteed 
against  loss. 

Under  another  chapter  heading,  I  have  pre- 
sented the  methods  used  by  disreputable  pub- 
lishers, who  almost  invariably  publish  books  at 
their  authors'  expense. 

If  a  reputable  publisher  considers  the  manu- 
script of  value,  and  yet  feels  that  its  publication 
would  be  unprofitable  to  him,  he  will  frankly  ex- 
press himself  to  the  author,  and  arrangements 
may  be  made  with  him  for  its  publication,  the 
author  assuming  the  whole  or  a  part  of  the  risk. 

If  several  publishers  refuse  to  publish  a  manu- 
script, except  at  the  author's  expense,  the  writer 
may  be  assured  that  either  his  manuscript  is  un- 
worthy of  publication,  or  else  that  it  is  upon  a 
subject  whicli  will  not  command  a  profitable  sale. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 

Complimentary  Copies  of  Books 

CUSTOM,  entirely  without  justification,  al- 
lows the  friends  of  an  author  to  expect  com- 
plimentary copies. 

Comparatively  few  of  these  persons  realize  that 
the  author  has  to  purchase  every  copy  of  the  book 
he  receives,  with  the  exception  of  a  few,  and  at 
the  same  price  which  the  bookstore  has  to  pay  for 
them. 

If  the  book  retails  for  a  dollar  net,  the  author 
must  pay  seventy-five  cents  per  copy.  If  at  a 
dollar  gross,  the  author  may  purchase  them  at 
sixty-six  and  two-thirds  cents  per  copy. 

To  present  a  friend  with  an  autograph  copy 
of  the  book,  the  author  must  pay,  out  of  his  own 
pocket,  from  two  thirds  to  three  quarters  of  the 
retail  price  of  the  book. 

There  is  absolutely  no  reason  why  he  should 
present  these  copies  any  more  than  should  the 
206 


COMPLIMENTARY  COPIES  207 

publisher  or  the  bookstore  keeper,  or  any  more 
than  should  the  grocer  furnish  his  friends  with 
complimentary  cans  of  tomatoes  or  free  bags  of 
sugar. 

Unless  the  author  is  wealthy,  he  should  frankly 
inform  the  friends  who  ask  for  copies  of  his  book, 
that  he  has  to  pay  for  them  in  cold  cash.  Nothing 
but  frankness,  and  the  telling  of  the  truth,  will 
prevent  misunderstanding,  and  sometimes  rupture 
of  friendship. 

The  friend,  as  a  rule,  does  not  intend  to  put  the 
author  to  any  expense,  but  he  is  likely  to  have  the 
mistaken  idea  that  a  complimentary  copy  of  the 
book  costs  the  author  nothing. 

Consider  your  books,  then,  as  merchandise. 
There  is  no  more  reason  why  you  should  give  away 
copies  of  them  than  should  the  tradesman  furnish 
his  friends  with  free  groceries  or  free  shoes. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII 

Books  in  Libraries 

THE  librarians  of  all  leading  and  well-kept 
libraries  carefully  read  the  announcements 
of  book  publishers,  and  follow  the  reviews  which 
appear  in  the  magazines  and  newspapers.  They 
recommend  the  purchase  of  books  to  their  advisory 
or  purchasing  committees. 

As  many  as  a  thousand  copies  of  a  meritorious 
book  may  be  sold  to  the  libraries,  some  of  them 
purchasing  several  copies. 

The  sale  of  a  book  to  the  libraries  adds  much 
to  the  reputation  of  the  writer,  but  may  more  or 
less  materially  effect  its  sale  to  the  public. 

I  recall  one  book  in  particular,  which  probably 
was  read  by  more  than  two  million  holders  of  li- 
brary cards,  and  yet  the  actual  sale  of  it  was  not 
more  than  five  thousand. 

If  there  were  any  way  of  preventing  the  sale 
of  a  book  to  a  library,  it  might  be  well  for  the 
208 


BOOKS  IN  LIBRARIES  209 

author  to  consider  it;  but  as  the  library  will  pur- 
chase the  books  it  wants,  irrespective  of  the  feel- 
ings of  the  author,  this  condition  will  continue 
to  exist,  and  there  would  appear  to  be  no  way  to 
prevent  it. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  is  quite  probable  that 
several  books  have  been  sold,  which  would  not  have 
been  if  the  books  had  not  been  on  the  public  li- 
brary shelves. 

If  the  book  is  both  valuable  and  popular,  it  is 
obvious  that  it  is  likely  to  be  out  most  of  the 
time.  Those  who  have  read  it,  either  by  pur- 
chasing it  or  by  taking  it  from  tho  library,  will 
recommend  it  to  their  friends.  If  these  friends 
are  book  buyers,  this  commendation  may  increase 
its  sale.  It  is  further  evident,  that  many  a  per- 
son who  would  not  otherwise  purchase  the  book, 
will  do  so  after  he  has  failed  several  times  to  pro- 
cure it  from  the  public  library. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII 

The  Advance  Publication,  oe  Republication, 
OF   Books,   Stories,  and  Ajlticles 

QUITE  a  number  of  books,  stories,  and  ar- 
ticles appear,  one  chapter  or  section  at  a 
time,  in  the  magazines  or  in  the  newspapers,  be- 
fore or  after  they  are  placed  on  the  market  in 
book  or  other  form. 

Although  it  would  seem  apparent  to  the  un- 
initiated that  the  publication  of  a  work  in  period- 
icals would  effect  the  sale  of  it  in  book  form,  ex- 
perience  shows   that  the  opposite  is  true. 

Comparatively  few  book  publishers  will  refuse 
to  publish  a  manuscript  which  has  appeared  peri- 
odically in  the  magazines  or  newspapers,  because 
of  such  publication;  in  fact,  most  of  them  will 
consider  it  a  selling  advantage. 

Then,  many  manuscripts  are  published  peri- 
odically after  they  have  appeared  in  book  form. 
210 


ADVANCE  PUBLICATION  211 

This,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  is  likely  to  increase 
the  sale  of  the  book. 

Of  course,  this  syndicating  must  be  done  with 
the  consent  of  the  book  publisher,  and  he  may  or 
may  not  share  in  the  profits. 

A  manuscript  may  be  submitted  to  the  book 
publisher,  with  periodical  or  syndicate  rights  re- 
served to  the  author,  or  the  book  publisher  may 
own  the  periodical  or  syndicate  rights  and  share 
the  money  received  with  the  writer. 

The  writer  of  a  really  meritorious  work  of  fic- 
tion may  obtain  an  extra  income  by  allowing  his 
manuscript  to  be  published  in  one  or  more  period- 
icals or  newspapers  before  it  appears  in  book 
form.  Hundreds  of  successful  books  are  placed 
upon  the  market  after  the  story  has  been  pub- 
lished in  a  magazine  or  other  periodical,  or  in 
several  newspapers. 

A  magazine,  as  a  rule,  will  not  publish  matter 
which  has  appeared  in  any  other  form,  but  the 
publisher  does  not  usually  object  to  the  appear- 
ance of  it  in  a  book  after  it  has  been  published 
in  the  magazine.  The  magazine  publisher  will 
not  accept  a  manuscript  if  it  is  to  appear  simul- 


^12     THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

taneously  in  any  other  publication.  The  news- 
paper, however,  does  not  object  to  simultaneous 
publication  in  several  others,  if  they  are  not  lo- 
cated in  the  same  territory,  of  an  acceptable  man- 
uscript, whether  or  not  it  is  eventually  to  appear 
in  book  form. 

In  another  chapter  I  have  explained  the  proc- 
ess of  syndicating. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX 

The    Linotype,    Monotype,    and    Typesetting 
Machine 

FORMERLY  all  books,  magazines,  and  news- 
papers were  printed  from  type  which  was 
hand-set.  The  invention  of  the  Linotype,  Mono- 
type, and  typesetting  machine  has  revolutionized 
printing. 

Although  many  books  are  now  hand-set,  and 
from  movable  type,  in  the  old-fashioned  way,  quite 
a  number  are  set  by  machine,  with  good  results, 
although  the  quality  obtained  may  not  equal  that 
from  hand-set  type. 

The  Linotype  operator  manipulates  a  key- 
board similar  to  that  of  the  typewriter,  and  the 
machine  automatically  casts  complete  lines. 

The   Monotype   differs    from    the   Linotype   in 

that    it    automatically    casts    and    sets    individual 

pieces   of  t3rpe.     The  operator  uses   a  keyboard, 

and   as   each  key   is   depressed   an   impression   is 
213 


214     THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

made  upon  a  sheet  of  revolving  paper.  This  is 
run  through  the  type-casting  machine,  and  the 
type  is  automatically  cast  and  set. 

The  typesetting  machine  uses  ordinary  type, 
made  for  the  purpose,  and  the  operator  uses  a 
keyboard. 

Unless  the  book  is  to  be  printed  upon  coated  or 
hard  paper,  it  is  often  difficult  for  the  layman  to 
distinguish  the  difference  between  machine-set 
work  and  that  done  by  hand. 

Electrotypes  from  hand-set  type,  however,  are 
usually  better,  and  will  last  longer,  than  those 
made  with  the  type  which  is  set  automatically. 

Machine  work,  of  course,  is  much  more  econom- 
ical ;  and  as  it  answers  the  purpose  in  many  cases, 
it  is  very  much  in  vogue. 


CHAPTER  XL 

Electrotypino   and   Steeeottfino 

PRACTICALLY  all  books  are  printed  from 
electrotype  or  stereotype  plates,  although 
comparatively  few  books  are  stereotyped,  the 
electrotype  being  used  almost  universally. 

Plates  are  made  for  four  reasons:  first,  to  save 
the  wear  of  the  type;  secondly,  because  a  very 
much  larger  edition  may  be  printed  from  electro- 
types than  is  possible  from  type;  thirdly,  because 
type  forms  are  unsafe,  as  some  letters  may  drop 
out  while  in  the  press;  and,  fourthly,  because  it 
would  be  altogether  too  expensive  to  hold  a  book 
in  type.  By  the  use  of  electrotype  plates  sub- 
sequent editions,  up  to  even  two  or  three  hundred 
thousand,  may  be  printed  at  short  notice. 

The  process  of  electrotyping  is  as  follows:  An 
impression  is  taken  in  wax  of  the  type  form.  The 
surface  of  the  wax  is  dusted  with  graphite,  the 
material  which  is  used  for  the  making  of  pencils, 
and  which  is  of  almost  microscopic  fineness.  As 
215 


216     THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

graphite  is  metallic,  it  is  a  conductor  of  electric- 
ity. The  wax  matrix,  or  mold,  with  the  graphite 
upon  it,  which  only  covers  the  surface,  is  placed 
in  a  bath  of  acid,  and  is  connected  by  wire  with 
the  negative  pole  of  the  battery.  A  piece  of 
sheet  copper  is  submerged,  and  attached  to  a  wire 
leading  to  the  positive  pole  of  the  battery.  The 
electricity  passes  from  the  copper  to  the  mold 
covered  with  graphite.  This  process  continues 
until  a  copper  plate  of  sufficient  thickness  to 
handle  is  produced.  It  is  then  backed  with  lead, 
mounted  on  wood  or  blocks  made  of  other  mate- 
rial, and  is  then  ready  for  printing. 

The  art  of  stereotyping  consists  of  making  a 
mold  of  the  type  in  plaster  of  Paris  or  papier- 
mache.  Papier-mache,  when  moist,  is  of  about  the 
same  consistency  as  a  spit-ball.  It  is  placed  upon 
the  type  form  and  beaten  in  with  brushes,  pro- 
ducing a  mold  into  which  molten  lead  is  poured. 

This  process  is  seldom  used  for  books  or  for 
job  printing,  and  is  maintained  principally  by 
newspapers,  where  speed  is  of  more  consequence 
than  quality.  The  result  is  far  inferior  to  that 
obtained  from  electrotyping. 


CHAPTER  XU 
Ths  Value  op  Exfkeibnce  and  Timeliness 

IF  a  single  individual  could  carry  in  storage 
all  of  the  book  learning  in  the  world,  and 
had  a  memory  which  would  retain  everything, 
from  columns  of  figures  to  historical  dates,  he 
would  not,  from  the  possession  of  this  knowledge 
alone,  be  a  good  producer  of  anything  save  that 
pertaining  to  the  purely  technical  or  statistical, 
and  even  then  I  doubt  if  he  could  produce  any 
work  worthy  of  publication. 

Experience,  with  the  fundamentals  of  educa- 
tion as  a  working  basis,  is  of  tremendous  impor- 
tance, and  without  it  learning  has  little  or  no 
usable  value. 

While  a  few  writers,  like  a  few  actors,  leap  Into 
tilmost  instantaneous  fame,  comparatively  few 
ever  meet  success  until  they  have  passed  through 
years  of  hard  experience,  and  have  not  only  seen, 
but  felt,  conditions. 

217 


218     THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

A  single  ocean  trip  in  a  floating  hotel  is  not 
sufficient  for  the  writing  of  a  nautical  story.  A 
personally  conducted  tour  into  the  catacombs  does 
not  give  the  traveler  a  sufficient  grasp  upon 
ancient  history  to  enable  him  to  write  a  historical 
novel. 

Experience  of  the  broadest  kind  is  necessary 
for  every  result  of  more  than  ordinary  accom- 
plishment; and  with  it,  special  experience,  if  the 
subject  be  out  of  the  ordinary. 

Further,  one  must  not  only  experience  expe- 
rience, but  he  must  be  able  to  put  the  result  of  ex- 
perience upon  paper  in  a  way  which  will  be  satis- 
factory to  the  reader.  He  has  two  things  to  do: 
First,  he  must  become  familiar,  not  by  hearsay, 
but  by  actual  contact,  with  the  things  which  he  is 
to  write  about ;  and,  secondly,  by  experience  of 
them  and  among  them,  he  must  learn  how  to 
write  about  what  he  knows.  The  mere  accumu- 
lation of  knowledge,  or  of  experience,  is  insuffi- 
cient. There  must  be  that  further  experience  in 
handling  experience. 

While  all  of  the  later  books  by  an  author  may 
not  show  improvement,  the  chances  are  that  the 


THE  .VALUE  OF  EXPERIENCE      219 

last  book,  or  one  of  the  last  ones,  will  be  his  best, 
unless  he  overwrites  and  is  too  prolific,  which 
condition  occasionally  occurs. 

I  have  in  mind  two  writers  of  boys'  books,  who 
obtained  international  fame  from  their  first  dozen 
volumes,  and  lost  half  of  it  by  continuing  to 
write  when  they  had  outwritten  themselves.  Their 
later  works  so  closely  resembled  their  former 
books  that  they  received  little  commendation. 
Their  plota  became  alike,  their  characters  the 
same.  They  simply  produced  a  conglomeration 
of  words,  set  in  short  paragraphs,  with  conversa- 
tions liberally  interspersed,  but  said  nothing  and 
made  their  characters  do  nothing,  except  what 
they  had  said  before  and  what  had  been  done  be- 
fore. 

Both  for  fame  and  for  money,  it  is  better  to 
produce  a  fewer  number  of  books  or  stories,  than 
to  attempt  to  flood  the  market  with  similar  pro- 
ductions. 

It  has  been  said  that  there  is  just  so  much  in 
a  man, —  that  the  brain  contains  a  limited  num- 
ber of  cells,  and  that,  theoretically,  all  of  them 
may  be  exhausted.     While  this  is  not  true  scien- 


£20     THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

tifically,  it  would  seem  to  apply  to  prolific  writers, 
and  to  take  away  from  them  the  fame  of  their 
earlier  productions. 

Quality,  rather  than  quantity,  pays  the  best 
dividends. 

Let  us  suppose,  for  example,  that  a  certain  au- 
thor has  obtained  a  great  success  because  of  his 
mystery  stories.  Primarily  these  books  sold  be- 
cause the  public  thought  them  worth  reading. 
This  writer  may  have  little  difficulty  in  obtaining 
the  publication  of  a  manuscript  much  below  the 
average  grade,  provided  it  does  not  wholly  lack  in 
merit.  A  large  number  of  readers  will  buy  his 
book  because  of  his  reputation.  By  intrinsic 
quality,  he  has  gained  their  approval,  and  be- 
cause of  it,  the  public  will  purchase  and  read 
everything  which  he  writes.  But  it  is  obvious 
that  his  best  books  will  seU  the  best.  Still  the 
sale  of  his  second  quality  will  be  sufficiently  large 
to  justify  its  publication. 

The  seasonableness  of  the  book  is  an  important 
item.  If,  for  example,  the  newspapers  are  filled 
with  accounts  of  the  loss  of  several  hundred  lives 


THE  VALUE  OF  EXPERIENCE      221 

by  the  foundering  of  a  great  ocean  liner,  every 
one  is  reading,  or  has  read,  these  accounts.  A 
book,  then,  describing  an  ocean  disaster,  would 
have  a  sale,  because  the  subject  is  opportune;  and 
this  book,  although  rather  indifferently  written) 
may  be  a  greater  seller  than  it  would  have  been 
if  it  had  not  had  the  advertising  value  of  the  re- 
cent ocean  horror. 

Another  example:  Let  us  suppose  that  trade 
unionism  is  being  discussed  in  every  newspaper, 
that  legions  of  lecturers  are  commending  or  con- 
demning the  organization  of  labor;  the  subject  is 
timely,  and  the  public  will  read  almost  anything 
fairly  well  put  together,  which  presents  the  rela- 
tions of  capital  to  labor. 

It  is  difficult,  however,  to  anticipate  these 
events,  and  almost  as  hard  to  produce  a  book  be- 
fore the  excitement  has  waned;  but  if  the  author 
has  a  manuscript  completed  or  nearly  so,  he  is 
likely  to  find  a  market  for  it,  which  would  not  as 
readily  meet  him  under  ordinary  conditions. 

The  production  of  something  new,  or  an  origi- 
nal treatment  of  a  pertinent  subject,  often  ere- 


9.%%     THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

ates  a  market.  The  very  originally  of  the  man- 
uscript will  give  it  a  prestige  even  beyond  its 
literary  merits. 

It  has  been  said  that  the  average  editor  or  lit- 
erary adviser  or  reader  is  biased  in  favor  of  the 
well-known  or  popular  author,  and  will  accept  a 
manuscript  from  him,  and  turn  down  one  equally 
good,  or  even  a  better  one,  from  an  unknown 
writer.  This  is  probably  true,  to  an  extent,  at 
least,  partly  because  many  so-called  readers  of 
manuscript  are  incompetent,  and,  further,  be- 
cause it  is  extremely  difficult  to  weigh  literary 
values.  Then,  commercialism  comes  in,  and  plays 
havoc  with  the  young  or  unknown  author. 

So  long  as  many  readers  will  refuse  to  pur- 
chase a  book  unless  it  is  written  by  a  popular  au- 
thor, or  by  one  of  reputation,  it  is  evident  that 
the  publisher  takes  less  financial  risk  when  he 
publishes  a  manuscript  of  ordinary  quality  by  an 
acceptable  author,  than  he  would  take  in  putting 
out  a  better  book  by  an  author  entirely  unknown 
or  little  known. 

There  appears  to  be  no  remedy  in  sight.  So 
long  as  financial  profit  must  be  considered,  the  pub- 


THE  VALUE  OF  EXPERIENCE      223 

lisher  will  give  preference  to  the  manuscript  which 
will  sell,  provided  its  quality  is  not  low  enough  to 
injure  his  reputation. 

Thousands  of  manuscripts,  representing  years 
of  labor,  and  containing  matter  of  great  benefit 
to  the  world,  never  see  the  light  of  publication, 
because  they  would  be  unprofitable  financially. 
They  must  be  published,  then,  at  the  author's  ex- 
pense, or  at  the  expense  of  philanthropists  or 
friends.  Of  this  I  have  spoken  in  another  chap- 
ter. 

I  would  suggest,  at  this  point,  that  here  is  a 
truly  philanthropic  opportunity, —  for  men  of 
wealth  to  endow  a  publishing  house,  so  that  it  may 
publish  manuscripts  of  unusual  merit,  which 
would  be  of  great  benefit  to  the  world  at  large, 
and  yet  would  be  unprofitable  as  money-makers. 

Many  books  would  receive  an  enormous  read- 
ing at  the  libraries,  and  yet  would  not  sell  to  any 
large  extent.  They  would  be  available  to  those 
who  needed  them  and  yet  could  not  afford  to  pur- 
chase them.  For  this  reason  they  are  not  profit- 
able publishing  propositions. 

The  thought  of  the  world   should  be   concen- 


«^4     THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

trated  between  covers,  but  so  long  as  commercial- 
ism must  govern  the  publication  of  books,  just  so 
long  will  much  of  the  inner  brain  of  man  be  un- 
able to  find  typographical  expression,  especially 
those  thoughts  which  appeal  to  the  higher  in- 
stincts, and  not  to  the  pocketbook. 

Therefore,  do  not  hope  for  recognition  until 
you  have  experience.  With  it  you  may  accom- 
plish much;  without  it  there  is  little  to  be  ex- 
pected. 

Experience  goes  hand  in  hand  with  ability. 
Either  by  itself  is  insuflScient  to  produce  accept- 
able result. 


CHAPTER  XLII 
Syndicate  Writems 

DURING  the  last  few  years,  there  has  been 
established  an  entirely  new  department  of 
journalism  and  of  general  writing,  technically 
known  as  the  syndicate. 

More  than  seventy-five  per  cent,  of  the  special 
articles  and  stories  appearing  in  the  daily  news- 
papers are  furnished  by  these  syndicates. 

The  syndicate  maintains  an  office  of  its  own, 
has  its  managers  and  editors.  It  covers  every 
department  of  literature  and  of  newspaper  work, 
including  news  and  even  book  manuscripts,  but 
not  the  publication  of  the  books  themselves. 

The  syndicate  purchases  of  authors,  and  of 
writers  of  every  class,  anything  which  would  be 
of  interest  to  newspaper  readers,  and  sells  copies 
of  it  to  the  newspapers. 

The  matter,  whether  it  is  a  short  story  or  a 
serial,,  or  a  special  article,  or  even  news  itself,  is 
226 


226     THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

set  in  type,  and  proofs  of  it  sent  to  the  newspa- 
pers. 

The  newspaper  purchases  this  matter  at  speci- 
fied price,  per  column  or  page,  setting  the  matter 
in  its  own  composing  room;  or  it  may,  in  many 
cases,  obtain  stereotyped  plates  or  matrices,  which 
reduces  the  expense  of  composition. 

There  is  no  standard  price  for  syndicate  mat- 
ter. It  is  sold  for  what  it  appears  to  be  worth, 
with  an  additional  price  for  furnishing  it  in  the 
form  of  stereotypes  or  in  matrix,  and  at  aston- 
ishingly low  figures.  The  stereotype  plates  of  an 
entire  page  of  seven  columns  can  be  purchased  for 
a  few  dollars,  with  a  rebate  of  fifty  per  cent,  upon 
return  of  the  plates,  which  are  melted  up,  and  the 
metal  used  over  again. 

Matrices,  which  are  made  of  papier-mache,  and 
from  which  any  paper  carr^^ing  a  stereotyping 
plant  can  cast,  are  very  inexpensive. 

Syndicate  writers  receive,  as  a  rule,  rather 
mere  than  would  be  paid  them  by  any  one  news- 
paper. Let  us  suppose,  for  example,  that  a  syn- 
dicate purchases  an  article  at  a  certain  price ; 
it  offers  it  to  the  newspapers,  either  in  the  form 


SYNDICATE  WRITERS  227 

of  proofs,  or  in  plates,  or  in  matrix.  If  in  the 
form  of  proof,  it  charges  the  newspaper  for  its 
use  anywhere  from  fifty  cents  to  three  hundred 
dollars,  the  average  price  for  a  column  article 
hardly  exceeding  a  dollar  and  a  half. 

The  newspaper,  then,  obtains  quite  an  accept- 
able article  at  not  far  from  one  twenty-fifth  of 
what  it  would  have  to  pay  if  the  article  was  writ- 
ten especially  for  it.  While  the  average  price 
paid  by  the  newspaper  does  not  exceed  a  dollar 
and  a  half  a  column,  occasionally  very  high  prices 
are  paid  for  syndicate  matter. 

I  recall  a  series  of  humorous  articles,  each  of 
which  occupied  about  a  column.  The  author  ob- 
tained about  twelve  hundred  dollars  for  each  of 
them,  and  the  newspapers  paid  from  twenty-five 
to  three  hundred  dollars  per  article. 

The  discoverer  of  the  North  Pole,  for  example, 
would  experience  little  difficulty  in  getting  from 
five  hundred  to  a  thousand  dollars  for  a  single 
chapter  of  his  story,  and  each  newspaper  publish- 
ing it  would  pay  from  twenty-five  to  two  hundred 
and  fifty  dollars  for  the  privilege  of  using  it. 

The  newspaper  frequently  purchases   exclusive 


228     THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

rights  for  its  own  city,  and  when  it  does  so  it  pays 
more,  per  column,  than  it  would  if  the  matter  was 
"  at  large." 

Syndicates  purchase  newspaper  rights  to  a 
story,  either  before  or  after  it  is  published  in 
book  form;  and  the  book  appears,  chapter  by 
chapter,  in  the  newspapers  which  subscribe  for  it. 

There  is  no  standard  price  for  the  author.  So 
far  as  I  know,  the  largest  sum  ever  paid  for  the 
newspaper-publication  rights  to  a  book  was  a  dol- 
lar a  word,  but  I  doubt  if  this  has  been  given  to 
more  than  two  authors.  Usually  the  syndicate 
pays  from  one  hundred  to  two  hundred  dollars  for 
the  newspaper  rights  to  a  book,  which  sum  is  di- 
vided between  the  book  publisher  and  the  au- 
thor. 

Strange  as  it  may  seem,  the  publication  of  fic- 
tion in  the  newspapers,  before  or  after  its  appear- 
ance in  book  form,  increases,  rather  than  decreases, 
the  sale  of  the  book;  and  many  book  publishers 
are  anxious  to  have  some  of  their  books  appear, 
chapter  by  chapter,  in  the  newspapers,  either  be- 
fore or  after  book  publication. 

The    syndicate   offers   the   special   writer   more 


SYNDICATE  WRITERS  229 

remuneration  than  he  can  possibly  receive  from 
any  one  newspaper,  provided  that  he  has  the  abil- 
ity to  produce  something  which  is  acceptable  to 
newspaper  readers,  and  is  seasonable,  and  appears 
to  have  a  special  value  to  each  community,  al- 
though it  is  published  in  a  hundred  different 
places. 

Some  authors  maintain  their  own  syndicates, 
handling  the  matter  themselves,  and  with  success; 
but,  as  this  is  an  age  of  specialization,  they  come 
in  direct  competition  with  the  great  syndicate 
companies,  who  can  easily  furnish  plates  and  ma- 
trices. I  do  not  think  that  the  majority  of  these 
writers  do  as  well  as  they  would  if  they  sold  their 
matter  direct  to  the  syndicate  companies. 

Several  of  the  great  newspapers  maintain  syn- 
dicates of  their  own.  For  example,  a  Chicago 
paper  runs  a  series  of  articles,  or  stories,  or  hu- 
morous illustrations  with  text,  the  matter  being 
written  or  drawn  by  a  member  of  its  staff.  The 
matter,  illustrated  or  otherwise,  is  made  up  into 
pages,  and  the  paper  furnishes  a  certain  number 
of  papers,  one  to  a  city,  with  matrices  of  the  page 
or  pages,  the  expense  being  proportioned  between 


2S0     THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

the  papers  subscribing,  the  paper  originating  the 
matter  naturally  making  a  profit. 

Two  or  more  pages  in  every  great  newspaper 
are  produced  or  obtained  in  this  way.  The  writ- 
ers receive  practicalljr  what  would  be  given  them 
by  any  syndicate. 

While  the  syndicate  is  labor-saving  and  money- 
saving,  and  represents  progression  and  modern 
efficiency,  and  while  it  enables  the  author  to  ob- 
tain more  for  his  work,  it  is  obvious  that  it  ma- 
terially cuts  down  the  demand  for  special  articles 
and  stories.  By  its  use,  the  newspapers,  which 
otherwise  would  have  to  pay  individual  market 
prices  for  miscellany  and  stories,  can  obtain  just 
as  good  material  for  about  ten  per  cent,  of  what 
it  would  cost  if  it  were  not  for  the  syndicate. 

I  could  not  consistently  give  the  names  of  the 
leading  syndicate  companies,  but  the  editor  of  any 
good  newspaper  would  undoubtedly  furnish 
them  to  inquirers. 

Some  syndicate  companies  pay  a  royalty,  based 
upon  the  sale  of  the  articles.  They  send  out  an 
announcement  of  it,  with  price  given,  and  pay  the 
author  from  ten  to  twenty-five  per  cent,  of  the  re- 


SYNDICATE  WRITERS  ^1 

ceipts  of  the  sale  of  that  particular  matter,  but 
most  of  the  articles  used  by  syndicates  are  pur- 
chased outright. 

The  syndicates  give  preference  to  humorous  or 
to  illustrated  stories  and  articles,  and  pay  higher 
prices  for  them  than  for  others.  To  be  accept- 
able they  must  be  seasonable  or  sensational,  yet 
there  is  an  increasing  demand  for  good  literature. 


CHAPTER  XLni 

Papee-Covered  Books 

ON  the  news-stands  are  displayed  hundreds, 
if  not  thousands,  of  paper-covered  books, 
retailing  at  from  ten  to  fifty  cents.  Many  of  them 
are  merely  republications  of  old  books,  upon  which 
the  copyright  has  expired.  Others  were  written 
especially  for  this  purpose. 

The  so-called  dime  or  yellow  novel  belongs  to 
this  class.  Comparatively  few  books  of  real  char- 
acter and  merit,  except  those  which  have  been  pub- 
lished before,  appear  in  paper  form. 

The  books  which  first  see  the  light  between  paper 
covers  are  usually  written  by  what  are  known  as 
"  hack  writers,"  most  of  whom  produce  improb- 
able and  inconsistent  dialogue.  Their  only  merit 
appears  to  be  vested  in  the  vast  volume  of  their 
sensationalism  and  improbability.  The  writer 
may  exercise  but  little  care,  and  pay  less  atten- 
tion to  detail  or  to  consistency.  He  may  be  said 
232 


PAPER-COVERED  BOOKS  233 

to  write  his  story  upon  a  roll  of  wall  paper,  and  to 
cut  the  paper  with  a  knife  or  ax  when  a  sufficient 
number  of  words  has  been  written. 

I  know  of  a  few  very  able  authors,  and  men  of 
liberal  education,  who,  for  financial  reasons,  pro- 
duce this  sort  of  stuff. 

The  sale  of  these  books  is  enormous,  and  even 
though  the  author  may  receive  only  a  small 
royalty,  it  is  probable  that,  in  some  cases,  his 
financial  returns  are  greater  than  they  would  be  if 
he  confined  himself  to  a  higher  grade  of  literature. 

One  of  the  most  prolific  writers  has  produced  a 
series  of  detective  stories,  which  are  unworthy  of 
the  paper  which  they  spoil.  He  writes  at  arm's 
length,  so  to  speak,  and  gives  little  attention  to  the 
formation  of  the  plot  or  to  the  unraveling  of  his 
complexities.  His  books  contain  words,  words, 
words.  Yet  he  is  a  man  of  refinement  and  liberal 
education,  one  who  could  produce,  if  he  would, 
high-class  matter. 

Another  instance,  which  will  interest  the  reader: 
Some  years  ago  there  appeared  in  one  of  the  so- 
called  popular  magazines,  a  series  of  detective  ar- 
ticles  written  by  a   writer  unknown  to  literary 


234     THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

fame.  This  writer  possessed  a  remarkable  insight 
into  detective  methods.  His  works  showed  unu- 
sual ability.  True,  some  of  his  plots  and  situa- 
tions were  exaggerated,  and  there  was  a  sort  of 
coarseness  to  his  work,  which  the  critical  reader 
could  not  avoid  seeing;  yet  there  was  an  under- 
current of  remarkable  talent. 

The  literary  adviser  to  one  of  our  leading  book 
publishers  called  upon  this  author,  and  told  him 
that,  if  he  would  carefully  write  his  books,  and  not 
produce  more  than  two  or  three  a  year,  he  would 
obtain  for  him  strong  literary  recognition.  The 
author  puffed  tranquilly  at  his  cigar,  and  replied: 
"  I  don't  want  fame.  Money's  good  enough  for 
me.  I  can  turn  out  several  thousand  words  a  day ; 
get  my  money  for  'em.  What's  the  use  of  repu- 
tation?  My  way's  the  easiest  way,  and  the  most 
remunerative." 

While  ninety-nine  per  cent,  of  the  so-called  yel- 
low stuff, —  I  use  the  term  stuff  advisedly, —  is  a 
menace,  and  I  believe  that  it  should  be  suppressed, 
I  must  admit  that  a  certain  amount  of  talent  is 
necessary  for  its  production.  Where  this  talent 
exists,  I  would  advise  the  writer  to  sacrifice  mone}? 


PAPER-COVERED  BOOKS  235 

for  a  good  reputation.  If  he  can  succeed  in  man- 
ufacturing worthless  matter,  although  there  is  a 
demand  for  it,  the  same  effort  given  to  producing 
real  literature  would  probably  result  in  a  sufficient 
income  to  justify  good  work« 


CHAPTER  XLIV 
The  Selmng  Value  of  Reputation 

SEVERAL  conditions  go  to  make  a  successful 
book:  First,  the  majority  of  good  sellers 
reach  success  because  of  their  intrinsic  merit. 
Comparatively  few  books,  even  by  the  greatest  au- 
thors, enjoy  more  than  a  limited  sale,  unless  they 
are  of  high  quality.  While  there  are  few  excep- 
tions, and  while  the  author's  reputation  may  carry 
a  book  of  mediocre  character,  it  may  be  said  that 
the  selling  value  of  every  book  is  based  fundamen- 
tally upon  the  quality  of  the  book  itself.  Do  not 
allow  yourself  to  feel  that,  because  you  are  un- 
known, your  manuscript  will  be  turned  down  if  it 
contains  sufficient  quality.  If  what  the  reading 
public  demands  is  in  your  work  and  if  your  style, 
character  drawing,  and  formation  of  plot  are  good, 
the  chances  are  your  manuscript  will  be  published, 
although  many  publishers  may  refuse  to  accept  it. 
Merit,    or   quality,   may   be   considered   the   first 

requisite. 

236 


SELUNG  VALUE  OF  REPUTATION      £37 

Secondly,  it  is  an  undisputed  fact  that  the 
author's  reputation  or  selling  value  counts  might- 
ily, and  that  the  average  publisher  will  often  ac- 
cept a  manuscript  of  fair  quality  from  a  popular 
writer,  or  from  one  of  great  reputation,  when  he 
would  not  be  willing  to  publish  it  if  an  unknown 
name  appeared  as  its  author.  Commercialism,  un- 
fortunately, does  not  play  a  minor  part  on  the 
stage  of  literature.  Publishers  are  in  business  for 
profit  and  it  is  obvious  that  they  cannot  avoid  con- 
sidering the  snlableness  of  the  manuscript  as  well 
as  the  quality  of  it,  and  will,  therefore,  publish 
many  a  work  which  would  never  see  the  light  if  it 
were  submitted  to  them  by  an  unknown  writer. 
This  condition,  however,  should  not  discourage  the 
embryo  author.  If  he  has  the  right  kind  of  stuff 
in  him,  he  will  succeed  eventually,  although  he  may 
not  be  able  to  escape  the  travail  of  disappoint- 
ment, discouragement,  and  long-waiting.  The 
cream  usually  rises  to  the  top,  unless  unforeseen 
conditions  interfere. 

The  young  writer,  then,  must  be  prepared  to 
wait,  and,  perhaps,  a  long  time,  for  recognition. 
He  must  realize  that  merit  alone  is  not  sufficient 


238      THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

to  justify  the  publisher  in  accepting  his  work. 
By  merit  he  must  obtain  what  may  be  called  a 
commercial,  as  well  as  a  literary,  reputation;  but 
no  reputation  can  be  kept  intact  unless  it  is 
founded  upon  real  quality. 

While  this  condition  is  discouraging  to  the 
would-be  writer,  it  exists  not  wholly  unfairly. 
Reputation,  especially  one  which  may  be  marketed, 
must  be  earned;  and  nothing  is  obtained  in  this 
world  without  strenuous,  earnest,  and  faithful  en- 
deavor, and  the  consumption  of  time. 

The  successful  writer  has  gained  his  reputation 
and  position  by  beginning  at  the  bottom  and  by 
rising  step  by  step.  No  matter  how  successful 
he  may  become,  he  reached  the  top,  or  obtained 
a  place  near  the  top,  by  passing  through  dis- 
couragement, and  by  overcoming  the  obstacles 
which  are  strewn  upon  every  literary  path. 

Occasionally  one  book  places  an  author  in  the 
front  rank,  but  usuall}^  it  does  not  bring  him  more 
than  a  limited  recognition,  unless  he  has  produced 
several  meritorious  works.  It  is  a  question  of 
time  as  well  as  of  ability. 

Literary  fame  and  fortune  do  not  always  come 


SELLING  VALUE  OF  REPUTATION      239 

to  him  who  waits,  but  thej  seldom  arrive  with  the 
earlier  efforts,  and  do  not  often  appear  to  be  in 
evidence  until  the  author  has  produced  several 
works  of  quality. 


CHAPTER  XLV 

The  Income  of  Book  Writers 

THE  publishers  of  America,  including  the  pub- 
lishers of  text-books,  schoolbooks,  but  not  of 
paper-covered  novels,  issue  every  year  about  ten 
thousand  books,  including  new  editions. 

There  are  published  annually,  between  book 
covers,  about  a  thousand  works  of  fiction  or  novels^ 
retailing  at  from  one  to  two  dollars,  most  of  the 
novels  being  listed  at  a  dollar  and  a  quarter,  or  at 
a  dollar  and  a  half,  quite  a  number  at  a  dollar, 
and  a  few  at  two  dollars  or  more.  Several  hun- 
dred text-books  or  schoolbooks  are  published  an- 
nually. 

The  sale  of  the  average  novel  or  work  of  fic- 
tion, in  book  form,  is  very  much  less  than  what 
is  popularly  supposed.  I  think  that  the  majority 
of  books  of  fiction  have  a  sale  rather  under  than 
over   two   thousand.     When    a   book   reaches    the 

ten  thousand  mark  it  is  considered  a  remarkable 
240 


THE  INCOME  OF  BOOK  WRITERS      241 

success.  A  very  few  books  have  had  a  sale  of 
half  a  million,  and  a  very  much  smaller  number 
have  enjoyed  a  circulation  of  from  three  quarters 
of  a  million  to  a  million. 

The  first-class  book  publisher  has  submitted  to 
him  from  a  thousand  to  two  thousand  manuscripts 
a  year,  and  he  accepts  from  ten  to  possibly  twenty- 
five  per  cent,  of  them.  As  there  are  a  small  num- 
ber of  book  publishers,  and  as  the  prolificness  of 
the  would-be  book  writer  is  as  speedy  as  the  ac- 
tivity of  the  incubator, —  for  he  collectively 
writes  several  thousand  manuscripts  a  year, —  it 
is  evident  that  one  may  not  hope  to  receive  a  very 
large  return,  if  his  books  are  published, —  not 
more  than  a  hundred  dollars,  or  a  few  hundred 
dollars,  for  each  manuscript. 

Accurate  statistics  are  impossible,  because,  al- 
though each  book  publisher  may  decline  as  many 
as  two  thousand  manuscripts  a  year,  practically 
all  rejected  manuscripts  are  submitted  to  other 
publishers,  and  a  part  of  them  accepted  in  time, 
but  probably  eighty-five  per  cent,  of  them  are 
never  published. 

The  text-book  or  schoolbook  publisher  usually 


242     THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

pays  a  royalty,  based  upon  the  list  or  retail  price 
of  the  book,  of  from  six  to  ten  per  cent. 

Several  hundred  thousand  copies  of  a  single 
text-book  have  been  sold,  but  it  is  probable  that 
the  average  text-book  does  not  enjoy  a  sale  of 
more  than  a  few  thousand  copies,  and  many  are 
complete  failures.  Text-books  have,  however,  one 
advantage  over  works  of  fiction,  for  the  sale  of 
them  is  likely  to  increase  after  five  or  more  years 
have  elapsed,  while  from  fifty  to  ninety  per  cent, 
of  the  sale  of  novels  occurs  within  a  year  of  pub- 
lication. 

Although  many  novels  or  works  of  fiction  con- 
tinue to  be  sold  by  the  publishers  to  the  public 
at  list  price,  the  average  book  publisher  will  un- 
load the  book,  so  to  speak,  as  soon  as  he  finds  that 
the  flush  of  the  sale  has  passed.  He  sells  the 
novel  to  department  and  other  stores  at  a  heavy 
discount,  and  these  stores  retail  it  at  a  price  often 
lower  than  the  regular  wholesale  price  of  the 
book. 

The  public  does  not  have  to  pay  list  price  for 
more  than  a  comparatively  few  novels,  after  they 
have  been  on  the  market  more  than  a  year  or  two, 


THE  INCOME  OF  BOOK  WRITERS      243 

and  this  condition  may  or  may  not  effect  the  roy- 
alty paid  to  the  author. 

This  subject  is  treated  further  in  the  chapter 
headed,  *'  The  Income  of  Magazine  and  Newspa- 
per Story  or  Fiction  Writers,"  and  in  other  chap- 
ter9« 


CHAPTER  XLVI 

The  Incomes  of  Magazine  and  Newspaper 

Writers 

HIGH-CLASS  magazines,  and  other  period- 
icals carrying  stories,  pay  about  a  hundred 
dollars  for  a  short  story  written  by  a  well-known 
author,  and  as  much  as  two  hundred  dollars,  or 
even  up  to  a  thousand  dollars,  if  the  matter  has 
unusual  merit,  and  is  by  an  author  of  national 
reputation,  and  one  who  possesses  the  ability  to 
produce  salable  composition. 

The  unknown  author  will  receive  from  ten  to 
twenty-five  dollars  for  a  short  story,  if  it  possesses 
considerable  merit. 

Serial  stories,  appearing  in  magazines,  bring 
from  a  hundred  dollars  to  as  much  as  three  thou- 
sand dollars,  if  the  work  is  of  unusual  quality, 
and  the  author  well  known  to  the  reading  pub- 
lic. 

244 


INCOMES  OF  WRITERS  245 

The  average  magazine  receives  from  one  to  &7e 
hundred  manuscripts  a  month,  and  as  none  of  these 
publications  carry  more  than  a  dozen  stories  or 
articles  in  a  single  issue,  it  is  obvious  that  a  very 
large  percentage  of  the  manuscripts  submitted 
are  rejected. 

The  author  will  probably  submit  his  rejected 
manuscript  to  other  magazines,  but  even  then,  it  is 
doubtful  if  more  than  five  per  cent,  will  be  pub- 
lished. 

Some  publications  pay  by  the  word,  seldom  less 
than  half  a  cent  a  word,  and  from  that  up  to 
twenty-five  cents  a  word,  ^ve  cents  a  word  being 
considered  a  fair  price  for  an  acceptable  manu- 
script. 

I  recall  one  case,  which  was  very  exceptional, 
where  the  author  received  a  dollar  a  word  for  a 
series  of  short  stories ;  but  the  publisher  purchas- 
ing the  manuscript  syndicated  the  stories  so  that 
probably  no  one  publisher  of  them  paid  more  than 
five  to  ten  cents  a  word. 

The  majority  of  short  stories  and  articles  ap- 
pearing in  newspapers  are  either  copied  from  other 
periodicals, —  frequently     from     those     published 


246     THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

abroad, —  or  else  are  contributed  without  cost  by 
the  writers  of  them. 

Many  a  specialist  on  lines  as  various  as  art  or 
science  and  philanthropy,  as  philology  and  social- 
ism, is  glad  to  write  an  article  for  the  promotion 
of  his  special  subject  without  remuneration. 

In  another  chapter  I  have  spoken  of  the  remu- 
neration received  by  book  writers. 


CHAPTER  XLVn 

The  Remuneration  Receited  by  the  Favored 
Few 

WITH  the  distinct  understanding  that  com- 
paratively few  writers  ever  enjoy  more 
than  a  moderate  income  from  the  work  of  their 
pens,  and  as  an  encouragement  to  young  writers, 
I  would  speak  of  a  few  authors  who  have  amassed 
fortunes. 

It  is  said  that  Sir  Walter  Scott  received  nearly 
a  million  dollars  for  his  stories,  and  that  Mark 
Twain's  books  and  writings  brought  him  a  for- 
tune of  a  million  and  a  half. 

It  is  currently  thought  that  Alphonse  Daudet 
received  twenty  thousand  dollars  for  a  single 
novel. 

I  have  heard  that  General  Lew  Wallace's  royal- 
ties on  "  Ben-Hur  "  and  "  The  Prince  of  India  " 
aggregated  nearly  four  hundred  thousand  dollars. 
247 


248     THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

Mrs.  Humphrey  Ward's  "  David  Grieve  "  and 
"  Marcella  "  may  have  brought  her  over  seventy- 
five  thousand  dollars. 

Rumor  says  that  Victor  Hugo  was  paid  eighty 
thousand  for  "  Les  Miserables." 

Hall  Caine  is  reported  to  have  received  a  check 
for  "  The  Christian  "  for  fifty  thousand  dollars ; 
and  Dr.  A.  Conan  Doyle  is  reported  to  have  en- 
joyed royalties  aggregating  three  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand  dollars  from  one  of  his  novels. 

"  Trilby  "  is  said  to  have  brought  its  author, 
Du   Maurier,    several   hundred   thousand   dollars. 

I  have  heard  that  Rider  Haggard  will  not  write 
a  story  for  less  than  ten  thousand  dollars. 

Booth  Tarkington  and  Richard  Harding  Davis 
may  receive  twenty-five  cents  a  word,  and  it  is 
quite  probable  that  Rudyard  Kipling  obtained  as 
much  as  a  dollar  a  word  for  some  of  his  writings. 

Margaret  Deland,  Mary  J.  Holmes,  Amelia  E. 
Barr,  Anna  Katherine  Green,  Kate  Douglass 
Wiggin,  Mary  E.  Wilkins-Freeman,  Frances 
Hodgson  Burnett,  Ella  Wheeler  Wilcox,  Harriet 
Prescott  Spofford,  and  a  few  others,  have  enjoyed 
large  incomes  from  their  works. 


THE  FAVORED  FEW  249 

E.  Phillips  Oppenheim,  the  mystery-story 
writer,  is  supposed  to  earn  twenty-five  thousand 
dollars  a  year. 

Practically  all  of  these  authors  are  fiction 
writers,  but  it  is  obvious  that  few,  or  none  of 
them,  reached  fame,  or  obtained  high  prices  for 
their  works,  at  the  start. 

Age  does  not  appear  to  make  any  material  dif- 
ference, Dickens  was  not  twenty-five  years  old 
when  he  wrote  "  Pickwick  Papers,"  and  Richard 
Watson  Gilder,  Frank  H.  Converse,  John  Howard 
Payne,  George  Alfred  Townsend,  Thomas  Hard- 
ing, Jules  Verne,  Rider  Haggard,  J.  M.  Barrie, 
Dr.  Doyle,  Grant  Allen,  and  George  Meredith  be- 
came famous  when  quite  young. 

The  author  of  "  Don  Quixote "  did  not  finish 
the  second  part  of  his  work  until  he  was  sixty- 
eight  years  old,  and  De  Foe  wrote  "Robinson 
Crusoe  "  at  the  age  of  fifty-eight. 

George  Eliot,  one  of  the  most  successful  novel- 
ists which  the  world  has  produced,  did  not  begin 
her  story-writing  until  she  was  forty  years  of 
age. 

Do  not   lose  sight,  however,   of  the   fact  that 


250     THE  ART  OF  STORY  WRITING 

these  authors  were  Hamlets  on  the  Stage  of  Litera- 
ture, and  that  few  may  hope  to  play  leading  roles. 

There  is  fame  and  fortune  at  the  top,  some  fame 
and  less  fortune  in  the  middle,  and  little,  very 
little  of  either  at  the  bottom. 

But  there  is  no  Royal  Road  to  Literature  or  to 
anything  else  worth  while. 


CHAPTER  XLVIII 

Records  of  Manuscripts 

IT  IS  suggested  that  the  author  keep  a  manu- 
script record,  and  enter  in  it  the  title  of  every 
article  or  story  which  he  sends  out,  with  the  date 
of  sending  and  the  name  of  the  publisher  to  whom 
the  article  or  story  is  sent ;  otherwise,  he  may  for- 
ward a  manuscript  to  a  publisher  who  has  rejected 
it,  and  would  not  be  able  to  keep  track  of  his 
manuscripts. 

The  following  form  is  presented: 


No. 

Date 

Manuscript 

Word. 

Sent  to 

Postage 

or 
Express 

Published 

1 

Jan.  1, 
1913 

"Vermont 
Folks" 

55,000 

Sully  & 

Kleinteich 
373  Fourth 
Ave..N.  Y. 

.30 

Feb.  1, 1913 

THE  END 

261 


INDEX 


Advance  publication  or  re- 
publication of  books, 
stories,  and  articles,  210. 

Adventure,   stories  of,  98. 

Agencies,  literary,  94. 

Articles,  advance  publication 
or  republication  of,  210. 

Articles,  illustrating  of.  186. 

Articles,  special,  45. 

Articles,  syndicating,  99&. 

Author's  expense,  books  pub- 
lished at,  204. 

A  word  at  the  start,  Pref- 


B 


Book,  name  of,  87. 

Book,  number  of  words  In 
a,  133. 

Book  or  story,  name  of,  87. 

Book,  price  of  a,   189. 

Book  publisher,  how  a  manu- 
script is  received  and 
handled  by  a,  136. 

Book  publishers,  contracts 
with,  149. 

Book,  size  of,  199. 

Book  writers,  income  of,  240. 

Books,  illustrating  of,  185. 

Books   in  libraries,   208. 

Books  in  paper  covers,  232. 

Books  published  at  the 
author^s  expense,  904. 

Books,  stories,  and  articles. 


advance    publication    and 
re-publication  of,  210. 

Books,  syndicating,  225. 

Bureaus,  literary,  94. 


Career,  literary,  1. 
Children's  stories,  35. 
Comedies,   58. 
Complimentary     copies      of 

books,  206. 
Contract     forms     used     by 

book  publishers,  149. 
Contracts  with  book  publisn- 

ers,  149. 
Copying  manuscripts,  110. 
Copyrighted  matter,  quoting 

from,    177. 
Copyrighting,  179. 


Danger  of  label,  179. 
Detective  stories,  33. 
Disreputable  publishers,  163. 
Dramas,  58. 


Electrotyping  and  stereotyp- 
ing, 215. 

Engravings,  185. 

Entering  a  literary  career,  1. 

Experience,  the  value  of» 
217. 


253 


Extravaganzas,  58. 


^4 


INDEX 


Farcical   comedies,    58. 
Fiction  writing,  6. 

H 

How  a  manuscript  is  re- 
ceived and  handled  by  a 
book  publisher,   136. 

How  to  send  a  manuscript, 
120. 

Humorous  writing,  39. 


Illustrating    of    books     and 

articles,  185. 
Income  of  book  writers,  240. 
Incomes     of    magazine    and 

newspaper  writers,  244. 


Libraries,  books  in,  208. 

Linotype,   213. 

Literary  agencies  or  bu- 
reaus, 94. 

I/iterary  career,  entering  a, 
1. 

Literary  schools,  91. 

M 

Magazine  writers,  the  in- 
comes  of,   244. 

Manuscript,  copyrighting  a, 
110. 

Manuscript,  how  it  is  re- 
ceived and  handled  by  a 
book  publisher,  136. 

Manuscript,  how  to  send, 
120. 

Manuscript,  number  of 
words  in,   113. 

Manuscript  paper,   108. 


Manuscript,  preparation  of, 

98. 
Manuscripts,   copying   them, 

Manuscripts,    rejected,    126. 
Manuscripts,  revising,  115. 
Melodramas,  58. 
Monologues,  58. 
Monotype,  213. 
Motion  picture  plays,  84. 
Mystery  stories,  31. 


N 


Name  of  a  book  or  story, 
87. 

Newspaper  writers,  the  in- 
comes of,  244. 

Novels,  6. 

Number  of  words  in  a  book, 
133. 

Number  of  words  in  a  manu- 
script, 113. 


Paper  covered  books,  232. 

Paper  for  manuscripts,  108. 

Picture  plays,  84. 

Plating,  215. 

Plays,  motion  picture,  84. 

Play  writing,   58. 

Playwright,  58. 

Poetry,  the  writing  of,  47. 

Preparation  of  a  manu- 
script, 98. 

Price  of  a  book,  182. 

Proof    reading,    193. 

Publishers,  contracts  with, 
149. 

Publishers,  disreputable,  163. 

Q 

Questionable  publishers,  163. 
Quoting     from     copyrighted 
matter,  177. 


INDEX 


265 


R 


Reading  of  proofs,   193. 
Records      of      manuscripts, 

251. 
Rejected   manuscripts,    126. 
Remuneration     received     by 

the  favored  few,  247. 
Re-pubHcallon      of      books, 

stories,  and  articles,  910. 
Reputation,  selling  value  of, 

Revising  manuscripts,  115. 

S 

Schools,  literary,  91. 
Selling  value  of  reputation, 

236. 
Short     stories,     simdicating, 

2SA 
Short  story,  the  writing  of, 

90. 
Sise  of  a  book,  129. 
Special    stories    or    articles, 

45. 
Stage,  58. 

Stereotyping  of  books,  215. 
Stories,  advance  publication 

or  re-publication  of,  210. 
Stories,  detective,  S3. 
Stories  for  children,  35. 
Stories,  short,  20. 
Stories,  special,  45. 
Stories,  syndicating,  225. 


Stories  of  adventure,  26. 
Stories  of  humor,  39. 
Stories  of  mystery,  31. 
Syndicating      books,      short 
stories,    and    articles,   225. 


Terms  for  the  publication  of 

books,  143. 
Theater,  58. 
Tragedies,  58. 
Typesetting  machines^  213. 


Unreliable   publishers,   163. 
V 

Value  of  experience,  217, 
Value  of  reputation,  236. 
VaudeviUe,  58. 


Words  in  a  manuscript,  113. 
Writers  of  syndicate  matter, 

2S5. 
Writing  a  short  story,  20. 
Writing  Action  and  novels,  6. 
Writing,  humorous,  39. 
Writing  of  plays,  58. 
Writing  of  poetry,  47. 


STAMPED  BELOW 


AN  INITIAL  FINE  OF  25  CENTS 

WILL  BE  ASSESSED  FOR  FAILURE  TO  RETURN 
THIS  BOOK  ON  THE  DATE  DUE.  THE  PENALTY 
WILL  INCREASE  TO  50  CENTS  ON  THE  FOURTH 
DAY  AND  TO  $1.00  ON  THE  SEVENTH  DAY 
OVERDUE. 


OEC 


■JAN.    3    193'^ 


i«^ 


^V^'^' 


3 


2M55LJ 


'^^^2  1,0,,, 


it 


JiMjmz 


JllH  "  7  I'-ih'' 


LD  21-100m-8,'84 


YC126301 


>  . 


